Suicide II: Darkness Waits
by lost-katana
Summary: It's been eight months since Leo's recovered his repressed memory. He seems to be making improvement, but has he really? Can his brothers help him, or will everything just get worse? Becasue if the darkness inside Leo has anything to say about it, it will
1. Melt Away

(hiding under a table) I fear sequels… But, because _you_, my readers, wanted it, I'm writing one. (begging) Please like it!

So, let's get to the first chapter.

I hope it'll be _nearly_ as good as its predecessor… Speaking of which, if anyone's reading this and has _not_ read Suicide (I), you should read that first. It would make more sense, I believe.

Oh, and I should probably mention that this takes place eight months after the _end_ of Suicide, nine months if you're counting the beginning. And the guys are sixteen now.

Disclaimer: I _would_ wage war on Eastman and Laird for ownership of the TMNT, but during that time, all funds would have to go to fending me off and there'd be nothing left to make more episodes of our favorite show. So that's not a good idea, huh?

&&&&&

In the winter, a turtle had to be careful while outside. And that rule had yet to exclude the teenage mutant ninja variety. It was a shame, really. Leonardo enjoyed watching the snow fall gracefully from the sky; he loved to see it untouched on the ground, sloping gently over mountains and hilltops without a single footprint to mark its purity.

New York City, however, was not one of those places where it would _be_ untouched. Here, snow was practically extinct. With the exception of a few piles of survivors you might find on rooftops and other frequently unpopulated places, all that was left of it was slush: gray and wet; dirty and malleable.

But those places, though he could and did see them often enough from a distance, were not the spots where Leo usually went. He actually spent most of his time, like the rest of his brothers, in the areas where no one would usually go. He seemed to have something in common with the snow.

It wasn't rain, but it was almost as calming, at least to him.

He really needed to head home. The sun was starting to go down. Leo usually didn't go topside when the sun was still out, none of them did, but as of lately, he'd felt a need to avoid the darkness.

It wasn't that he was afraid of the dark, he never had been, but darkness, in the last eight months, had frequently been more than a sign that night was coming…

And that, he _was_ afraid of.

Leo sighed. As a child, Master Splinter had often reminded him and his brothers how important it was to confront their fears. And while Leo had done that, he'd still ended up avoiding the scariest thing he ever saw.

He had hidden it so deep within himself that no one ever knew what it was, even him. Somehow, somewhere along the way, he forgot it. And while it was a thing worth being forgotten, Leo paid dearly for it nine years later.

But he remembered now. And Raph, Mike, and Don knew now, too. It was amazing how beneficial that had become. He didn't have to hide it from them, like he'd hidden other feelings before in his life. They were there to help him when he needed it, and though Leo, like before, in some cases, _still_ refused to accept some of their help, he was grateful for that.

Often however, he wondered if Splinter had ever known. As a six-year-old, Leo had witnessed a boy commit suicide. Though the memory eventually was repressed, he didn't think it had happened immediately.

Had his Sensei sensed something wrong with him? Leo was sure he must have. Had he perhaps seen it as well? Leo didn't think so. He remembered the rest of his brothers had been with his father-figure when they found him that day, and they weren't as screwed up as he'd turned out to be. Did Splinter ever ask him what had happened? What he saw? If so, Leo couldn't remember.

And that wasn't because that too was a repressed memory. It was simply because of the cursed fact that he'd been too young to remember that, along with the actuality that he might have been too upset at the time to do so.

He sure couldn't ask Splinter. He'd been dead for nearly a year now. It was late January. A couple more weeks, and the first year without him would be official. Naturally, everyone was a little depressed at the moment.

Leo bit his lip, heading for the nearest manhole cover in the alley to his right. He didn't have to go out in front of people; there was another alleyway that connected the two locations behind a shop. There was one way he could find out, and the desire to just get it over with gnawed at him from the inside every day.

After his death, when the turtles were cleaning out his room, they found that Splinter had left each one of them some items and a letter, in the case of his death. While they now all had taken their things, each in time, Leo had yet to open his letter.

Taped to his wall, it looked at him everyday. He was afraid to open it; feared that there could be more to his lost and found memory than he wanted to know. Raph often encouraged him to take a look at it, but Leo always declined, telling him he'd do it when he was ready.

But Splinter must've known _something_, Leo was sure of it. Even if he hadn't understood what had actually happened, he must've realized that something bad had happened that day, now ten years ago.

God, he missed Splinter. He had yet to find a healthy way to grieve for him though, but he didn't cut himself. That's what had led up to discovering what had happened. Raph had caught him one night, one katana slicing through his arm.

But he was trying.

Crying would've been a good way, but Leo could only manage to do that every once in a great while. The boy who had killed himself right before him had given him a little lesson about life before he died, and though he hated him for it, the words had stuck with him.

But slowly, with the help of his brothers, he was learning to reject those words. Leo tried to remind himself how lucky he was to have them. And he had April, Casey, and Leatherhead too, even if they weren't around as often.

And of course, he still had Logan.

Leo frowned, stopping by the manhole cover. Logan Acker was the boy who had swallowed rat poison and then jumped off the drainage junction ten years ago. He was dead. But, after Leo remembered those events eight months ago, he'd gone catatonic for a week. He still went catatonic sometimes, but never as long as that time.

The spells were unpredictable, as well as how long he'd be gone. Once, the blue-clad turtle had been fine for a month. Then, he'd go catatonic thrice in one day. Sometimes he was detached from the rest of the world for only a few minutes, other times, it'd be hours.

Only one thing stayed the same. Every time he went catatonic, Logan was there.

This wasn't the Logan Acker that had killed himself. According to _this_ Logan, he was the darkness of Leonardo's mind.

But he still had the same traits. Just like the real Logan, this guy was scary. Perhaps even more daunting than the one he'd actually met.

Logan wasn't really a guy Leo liked to consider being there for him, even if he was around him as much as any good friend or family member. Logan was more like a very loud and nosy neighbor. He knew, and _would_, make his presence known whenever he felt like it. He also enjoyed reminding Leo of certain darker memories, not forgetting the main one, of course.

Shivering, and not just from the cold, Leo pushed the manhole cover aside. Even after eight months, he was still the only one who knew about the Logan in his head. His brothers knew about his catatonia, that was impossible to hide, but they didn't know all that went on in his head.

Mikey did know about the dark side. That was what Logan had called it. Leo didn't know why, but he talked to his youngest brother more about what happened there than Donny or Raph. But he didn't include Logan, of course. Mike was actually a great help. The 'game' he played when Leo would sometimes repeat other's words seemed to bring him out of it most of the time.

But if things got really bad, like when Leo saw the memory again, he tended to go see Donatello. Sometimes, that memory would be twisted around: shown from different viewpoints; combined with other thoughts. Once, Leo thought he could _feel_ the blood, even after he was back. Don would talk to him, try to calm him down. He was better at that.

And he went to Raph when Logan told him something about himself that he feared was true. And while, like everyone else, his red-banded brother didn't know it was 'Logan' that had told him such things, he was always sure to explain to Leo that it wasn't true. It worked, for the most part. But Leo still had his doubts.

Finally, pushing the manhole cover aside, Leo took one last look at the winter scene before going into the sewer. He _really_ needed to go home. When he was gone for more than two hours without a word, he tended to worry his brothers, whose first thought would be that he'd gone catatonic while topside and was freezing to death.

He'd finally gotten his swords back from Raph a few months ago, but, although he was still the leader, his brother threatened to take them away again if he ever tried to do something stupid. And while going catatonic wasn't something he tried to do, getting away from the lair was.

He was still the same old Leo, and Raph was still the same hotheaded Raph, but the two had changed a little, becoming more like each other every day. Leo still had yet to decide if that were a good thing or not.

As loud as New York was, all seemed quiet as he watched some snowflakes drift lazily to earth. Smiling softly, he reached out his hand; palm upturned, and caught a few. Since he was cold-blooded, they didn't dissolve as quickly as they would have if he were a human. The patterns, small as they were and therefore hard to see, were nevertheless beautiful. Leo tried to remember them as they slowly began to melt against his skin.

With a satisfied sigh, he wiped the water off his hand and jumped into the sewer, pulling the lid above him closed as he did so. As he headed home, Leo tried to think of the snow; good things, happier things, but all he could think about was the feeling that good times would soon be up.

&&&&&

Above him, on the surface, the sun started to slowly creep beneath the horizon. And while it went, even though the moon was shining and the lights of New York were lighting its streets, the sky began to grow darker. Bit by bit, the sun vanished and with each piece of light lost, the darkness spread and grew.

It reached out everywhere, and though it barely affected the bright buildings, it slipped into alleys and darkened corners, gradually deepening to blackness.

The darkness, though without heart, mind, or body, is patient. And everyday, it waits however long it needs to for its turn to rule over the light.

&&&&&

Please tell me that didn't suck!

I mean, it _is_ a prologue, and prologues basically explain what's happened since the last story, right? Well, if it's a sequel… you know what I mean!

But it wasn't horrible, was it? It's not like I'm expecting a standing ovation, but it was at least decent, right?

Please tell me! Just review! Please!


	2. Home

Whoa. This got a rather unexpected, but most pleasing turnout. I'm ecstatic! You guys have no idea how happy you make me when you review! Sometimes, it's the best thing that happens to me all day!

I'm sorry it took awhile, I was kinda upset about a few things goin' on in life. But Chapter Two is here now, so enjoy!

Disclaimer: I must have the wrong star. I keep on wishing on them, but I still don't own the TMNT!

&&&&&

_Oh no you don't!_ Raph clenched his teeth, trying to keep his car ahead of Mikey's as the two raced, via remote controls attached to the television. He had to admit, his little brother was getting _seriously_ good at these video games… but not good enough to beat Raph.

Or so he hoped.

He really had no idea _which_ game they were playing. Mikey had so many, one would think that even the fish in the ocean had been outnumbered. At least a quarter of those games had to do with cars.

They raced for what seemed like hours. Maybe they were, Raph wasn't sure, but finally, at nearly half past seven, Mikey won.

"Ha!" The orange-clad turtle stood up, alive with the rights to gloat and glee practically oozing from every pore of his body. "I win! That's Mikey: two, and Raph: _zero_!" That said, the youngest turtle began to do a victory dance resembling something like a mix of hip-hop and the hula.

With a growl, Raph put down the controller. "Two? We only played once-"

Mike stopped, grinning from ear to ear. "Well, duh. I knew that, Raphy! I'm talking about my awesome triumph against you here _and_ at the Battle Nexus!"

Raph growled and clenched his fists. "That's it!" He shouted, proceeding to attack him.

Letting out at first a laugh, then a girlish scream, Mikey ran for the kitchen with his brother on his tail. Raph chased him to the table, where Mikey did a flip over the table and headed back out to the living room, making a bee line to Don's lab.

Although he had every intention of going in there and pummeling him, Raph paused, remembering the time, as well as the fact that Leo wasn't home yet.

For the fear of becoming like his elder brother in that matter, Raph tried not to worry. He decided to give Leo another ten minutes before calling him on the Shell Cell.

He headed into Don's lab slowly, no longer with any intention of beating up his braggart of a brother. Apparently, the purple-clad turtle had quickly understood why Mikey had come in here only moments before. The first thing he said to Raph without even turning from his latest interest, but with good cheer and not malice, was, "If you two break _anything _in here, you do understand you'll be cleaning it up?"

Smirking slightly, Raph shook his head, walking over to Donny. "Don't worry, bro. I ain't here to do any damage."

"Good luck trying to convince Mikey that those are your true intentions."

He thought about it for a minute before chuckling; he spoke low enough so only Don would hear him. "Now why would I do that? Let's let him squirm a little."

The purple-banded turtle turned back to his research, smiling at his brothers' antics.

Raph couldn't help but notice that, despite Donatello's present calm demeanor, he frequently looked at the time on the clock.

He wasn't sure why he was in here. He no longer had any desire to seek Michelangelo out, nor did he want to eavesdrop on whatever Don might be working on. Often, his engineer of a brother had some fantastic surprises waiting for them; and what fun would it be for Raph if they were ruined before they were unveiled?

The silence went on for awhile: as thick as a piece of butter ready to be cut with a knife, if only they were in the mood for it.

With a click, the door to the lair was opened, then shut. Steady, calm footsteps could be heard as their owner made his way into the living room. They paused there for a few seconds before heading closer to them.

It never ceased to amaze Raph how Leo could often so easily find them. It was an excellent talent that served him well in their profession as ninjas.

Leo poked his head into the door, making sure that they were there. When he saw Donny and Raph, he smiled and came in. "Mikey in here, too?"

Don nodded in the direction of a table with some interesting looking cloths on it before turning towards it completely. "Mikey, you can come out now. Raph's not planning on hurting you anymore, and I'm pretty sure that it's your turn to make dinner tonight."

Actually, nearly _every_ night was Mike's turn to make dinner, from Tuesday to Thursday. On Mondays, Donny would put aside science and engineering long enough to make something nutritious, he was the only one who made sure they did so. Sunday was Raph's turn to cook. He wasn't too bad at it at all; he just didn't have the patience for it. Once a week was good enough.

The remaining two days of the week were pizza, fast food, and pizza days. Though it'd only seem fair to cancel out one of those to allow Leo to cook, all had unanimously agreed that Leo was not allowed to enter the kitchen unless it was to eat or get an eating implement. The only kitchen appliances the blue-banded turtle could manage, on his _good_ days, were the toaster and the microwave.

Raph almost laughed, recalling a time when, in the days when he was alive, Splinter, ill, had asked Leonardo to make him some soup. Before the words had completely left his mouth, a twelve-year-old Mike had come bursting into the room, shouting, "For the love of God, Sensei, don't let him near the stove! Don't do it!"

Leo didn't really mind the fact that he wasn't such a good cook. At that time, as he did now, he let Mikey take over anything related to cooking without complaint. But since he'd never found it entirely fair that his brothers had all those jobs, he was the dishwasher more often than the rest of them.

Turning his attention back to the present, Raph carefully watched the spot where Mike was. His little brother didn't make a sound, but a small squeaking sound that was made when he moved confirmed that he'd heard him.

That was when Raph couldn't help getting a _little_ even with him. "What? The _Battle Nexus Champion_ is afraid of us _inferior_ warriors, mainly the one he beat in one of the rounds? Leo, can you believe this?"

Ever since the events of eight months ago, the scar of depression, hurt, and early-robbed innocence was still very evident, but progressively healing as time went on. In fact, Leo was coming back to his old self; joking with the rest of them when he found the situation funny, as he clearly did now.

The said turtle smiled. "I know, Raph. Shocking, isn't it? I mean, even when we _clearly_ don't stand a chance against his excellence, he refuses to fight us."

Don put away his stuff for the day, deciding to join in. "Perhaps he's just sparing us the humiliating defeat."

Finally, Mikey poked his head out, mostly amused, but partly piqued. "Ah, yes. I am rather superior, aren't I? Keep it up you guys, and I'll be the only one having shrimp tonight."

&&&&&

When dinner was finally made, it was most delicious. It was served with angel hair pasta and garlic bread; Leo was barely able to finish it.

Like with Donny and his medical supplies, no one was quite sure how Mike had been able to get his hands on these eats, as well as many others, but no one really cared to know. It was probable that a good deal of it came from April, but not all of it could have. And no one could imagine seeing Casey in a shopping center _with_ enough patience to find the food, much less purchase it.

There were quite a few cashiers that Casey didn't get along with. He often thought they were overcharging him. Sometimes they were, but usually; he'd just forgotten to include the tax when totaling up the final purchase.

Dinner had gone excellent; all had enjoyed. And that happiness of a full stomach wasn't limited to the turtles, since Klunk had also found the need to dine with them, jumping on the table and sampling one or more shrimp from each plate before anyone could stop him.

And when one was filled, they often were ready to head upstairs for an anticipated fiesta. As Leo headed upstairs to do so, saying night to Mike, who would surely be asleep before his movie even started, and Don on his way, he heard something on the news.

-_there has been an increased amount of gang activity from the Diamondbacks in the past few months. Although they are mostly minor offenses compared to many other gangs, anything civilians may see should be reported at once-_

The Diamondbacks were a new gang on the streets; most, if not all of them, were under the age of nineteen. Leo and his brothers had actually had a run in with them before; the very night, in fact, that Leo had recovered his lost memory.

Mostly, the gang kept to a few certain crimes. They liked to put up graffiti, rob convenience stores and gas stations, deface tombstones, and make a big scene about how they could kill anyone they wanted, though they had yet to do so, even when they tried.

Nevertheless, it was about time someone gave them a hard time.

The small gang forgotten almost instantly, Leo began to dread what he'd surely see as he entered his room. It was always there, so it'd be a surprise if it were suddenly gone. He'd actually be quite depressed if it was gone, but he found that unlikely.

Sure enough, the first thing he noticed was Splinter's unopened letter to him, taped to the wall. He walked over to his bed and reached across it, taking the envelope off the wall.

"Ya gonna open it?" Raph's voice sounded from the doorway.

Leo turned slightly, so he could see him, before sighing and shaking his head. "No. Not tonight. I was thinking about it… but I don't really feel like it."

Raph walked in a few steps. "How come? He might have had something important to tell ya-"

"That's what I'm afraid of." Leo said as he taped it back on the wall.

Shaking his head, Raph started, "Look, bro, he might have-" but changed his mind, a hard thing for him to do sometimes; "All right. But Leo, you gotta open it sometime."

Leo just nodded and said goodnight. When Raph was gone, Leo looked at the floor for a few minutes, thinking. Finally, he sighed; moved. Switching off the lights, Leo made his way back blindly, but gracefully to his bed.

Stretching his body out across it, Leo stared at the ceiling, thinking about Splinter, Logan, his brothers, and anything else that came to mind, including all the children's stories he could think of; from Rumpelstilskin to Jack and the Beanstalk.

Everything was confusing, but he tried not to think about it. He couldn't help it though. Ever since he could remember, he had always thought about _something_, and most of the time, they weren't overly joyful.

But like how those things had done at times when he was young through this point in time, they eventually ceased, allowing the insomnia to subside, and let him descend into the much-needed sleep.

&&&&&

So, how was that?

Hey, has anyone ever noticed that almost everybody has this idea that Leo is a bad cook, thought, for me at least, it has yet to be proven?

I actually don't mind. It's just one more thing I can have in common with him. I'm a horrid cook; didn't get my Mom, or my Dad's, talent. I can make anything if it involves just a microwave or a toaster (man, can I make a good cheese sandwich and Ramen Noodles!), but don't expect anything good from my hands and a frying pan/oven/stove. My cookies always come out too gooey, unless they're premade. It's a shame; I love cookies.

Anyways, I hoped you liked this chapter! Please R&R!


	3. Fortune Teller

All right, I'm back!

Got an italics flashback thingy in this chapter, so you'll know what to look for. Some of you may remember that in the last chapter of Suicide, I mentioned that Mikey remembered something. This is what it is.

Anyways, back to the story! (rubs hands together) Time to get serious.

Disclaimer: I don't own the TMNT. Technically, I don't think I even own this story… is this copyrighted?

&&&&&

Grateful that no nightmares had followed him into his sleep, Leo nevertheless rose from bed the next morning in a cold sweat. He briefly acknowledged Splinter's letter in his peripheral vision but paid it no mind as he bolted out of bed and room; straight to the kitchen.

In the desired location, Leo was mildly disappointed to find that none of his brothers were yet up. Of course, their reason was excusable; most people, especially teenagers, were not moving about at a quarter to five in the morning. Nevertheless, he would've liked their companionship right about now.

Moving to a cabinet by the refrigerator, the blue-clad turtle opened it to view his choices of cereal. Despite lacking the culinary abilities that even a seven-year-old could perform with ease, Leonardo _could_ get his own cereal.

Cheerios, Froot Loops, and Cinnamon Toast Crunch. After the careful deliberation of three seconds, he chose the latter of the three. Froot Loops tasted funny to him and he didn't feel like Cheerios today. His brothers shared his sentiments; which would explain why the box had yet to be opened.

April tried to get them healthier things, but not even she could force them to eat it.

Bowl of Cinnamon Toast Crunch successfully placed at the table with no mess or fire; Leo sat down before it. With a sigh, he picked up his spoon, stirring it among his breakfast.

Never had Wendell the Baker seemed so melancholy.

&&&&&

Normally, Michelangelo would have slept on until eleven, but today was different. From seven 'til ten this morning, there'd be a marathon of the Spiderman cartoons he'd watched back when he was six.

Since their training sessions now began at noon, there was plenty of time for cartoons. And Mikey was planning on using every bit of that time to his advantage.

With five minutes to spare, the orange-banded turtle first went to the kitchen; grabbing a muffin, two waffles, an orange, and a banana to snack on. As he was heading to the glorious wall of television, he noticed a bowl of half-eaten cereal on the table.

Knowing for a fact that Raph was still sleeping, and, if he was awake, that Don would probably be in his lab, Mike had a good idea at to who it belonged too.

Sure enough, as he sat down, Mikey noticed his elder brother sitting by the armchair, on the floor, staring blankly at some magazine that was several years old turning the pages every second or so with just as much enthusiasm.

"Hey, Leo." He greeted cheerfully; hoping to brighten whatever mood the blue-clad turtle might be in.

Leo looked up; nodded his hello.

"You wanna sit up here?" Mikey offered. "The couch is a lot more comfortable than the stinkin' floor."

It didn't take even two seconds for him to rise and make his way to the couch. Folding his legs under him, Leo looked at his little brother. "What're you doing up so early?"

Mikey put on one of his famous grins. "Spiderman marathon. The old ones, remember them, bro? They were the best!"

Even though he nodded, he could tell that Leo didn't remember them as fondly as Mikey did. That sixth year had been different for the blue-banded turtle.

Hoping he hadn't accidentally caused his brother to take a painful trip down memory lane, Mike switched on the TV. "Wanna watch?"

Looking from him to the television, Leo nodded again. "Sure."

Two episodes went by, broken up by commercial breaks. Donatello got up, had breakfast, watched Spiderman for ten minutes, and then headed to his lab. Another episode, more commercials.

Before the fourth episode began starring the web-slinger, Leo went catatonic.

&&&&&

One moment, he was in the lair, the next, a swirling darkness. Leo hated this.

Logan's voice came out of the inky walls; he himself was nowhere to be seen. A new trick of his. "Well wasn't that a fun vacation?"

Leo didn't answer, but continued to look around now and then, though he knew his search was in vain. Logan did whatever _he_ wanted, not what _you_ wanted.

"Eight months," he continued, "and you just sit around. I thought you said you'd be able to get better without me?"

"Maybe I would," Leo had to say, "but you're always here."

"Still, you haven't done much."

Leo ground his teeth. Things were _much_ better, but Logan never thought so. That was just a minor improvement to him. "I have, too; with my brothers."

Appearing three inches away to his left, Logan shook his head. "Whatever. Point is: nothing's getting done your way." Leo stiffened, fearing what was coming. "So we're gonna try my way again."

"I don't want to."

"Too bad." Logan said. Sometimes, the boy seemed morbidly comical, but now he looked dead serious. "I warned you. If you'd done things my way to begin with, everything would be fine, but now it'll be much harder."

Trying to ignore him, Leo listened for anything else. Sometimes, he could hear his brothers. This was one of those times. He tried to make out each word being said, repeat them.

Yet Logan's voice was so much closer. "From this point on, nearly everything you see and hear will be a reminder of me."

Still listening to the brother on the outside, Leo couldn't help but rebut Logan's comment. "You can't see the future." He said bitterly. "How the hell can you do that?"

That was not a question. Logan had great power here in Leo's mind, but that was where his limits lay.

Logan grinned. Dark and deadly. He knew what Leo was thinking. "I don't need to. You'll see soon enough."

Then he was gone. And the memory began.

&&&&&

Spiderman would have to take the backseat for now. When Leo started to repeat what Mikey was saying, the younger turtle went into his game mode.

While he would repeat anything said to him, Mikey never made Leo say something stupid. He may be the jokester of the family, but he still understood the tragedy of such situations.

Besides, Leo was a mutant turtle, not a parrot.

Mikey looked around the room. "There's a plant, to the right, in the corner of the room."

Leo, with a blank stare, nevertheless heard. "There's a plant, to the right, in the corner of the room."

"No darkness." Mike said, understanding the dark world he went to when this happened.

"No darkness."

"The old armchair's to the left."

"The old armchair's to the left."

Even though he was finding things all over the room to replace what Leo was seeing in his mind, Mikey never took his eyes off his brother. "No darkness."

"No darkness."

"Spiderman's on TV."

"Spiderman's on TV."

"No darkness."

"No darkness."

He decided to us himself for this. "Mikey's on the couch, to the right."

"Mikey's on the couch, to the right."

"No darkness."

Leo still stared blankly ahead. "No darkness."

It went on for about another five minutes, but Leo eventually came out of it. He looked at Mikey for a second before bowing his head. "Sorry."

Mike shook his head. "It's okay, bro. It's not your fault."

Even though the words never made it out of his throat, he saw Leo mouth 'I think it is'.

After a few seconds, Leo straightened his composure. "I need to go talk to Donny now."

Waving a small goodbye, which Mikey returned, Leo left.

As always lately, Mikey began to wonder if things were getting worse for his brother.

The last time things had gotten bad like that, was soon after the event that had made Leo like this.

He didn't remember a whole lot, but Mikey did remember a few things.

There was a time when Leo refused to eat for nearly a week. Instead, he'd just lay on the couch, in the fetal position. At first, the three of them, Raph, Don, and Mikey, had thought maybe he just wanted to watch TV.

Later, only because they walked in while Splinter was trying to get him to eat something, they found out Leo was crying into a pillow.

And then there were the nightmares.

&&&&&

_At the time, they were sharing rooms. Mike with Donny, and Raph with Leo. But then the latter brother started having nightmares. Bad ones, in which he'd cry out in the middle of the night. He refused to leave the room, even to eat._

_For a short amount of time, Splinter thought it'd be best for Raph to sleep in their room._

_One day, Mikey had finally gotten tired of Raph. Not only was he mean, he snored! He made his way to Leo's room, hoping he could talk his brother into getting Raph back where he belonged._

_When he entered, the light wasn't one. It took a few minutes for Mikey's eyes to adjust, but he began to look around. Leo wasn't in his bed._

"_Leo?" he had asked softly._

_Making his way around the room, Mike couldn't find him. He was just about to leave when he finally noticed the soft sobs coming from under Leo's bed._

_Getting down on his knees, Mikey peeked under the mattress to find Leo curled up on the floor, crying in his arm. "Leo? You okay?"_

_Leo never answered. _

_The next thing he knew, Splinter was beside him. "Michelangelo, what are you doing in here?"_

_Mikey decided it best not to explain his original intentions. They didn't seem important now anyways. "Master Splinter, what's wrong with Leo?"_

_Splinter sighed, and then sat down on the floor, back against Raphael's bed. He picked up Mikey. "I am not sure, my son. He will not tell me."_

_They sat there for a few minutes. Finally, Splinter patted his back. "Come now. I think it is best that you go now, Michelangelo."_

_Mikey nodded and crawled out of Splinter's arms. But as he put his hand down to push himself up, he felt Leo grab his hand. The grip wasn't tight, but it felt like he didn't want to let go. _

_He found that Leo was looking at him. "Do you hate me?" He asked softly._

_It took him a moment to understand what Leo was really asking of him. He wondered if Leo knew what they had all said about him when they'd been out of the lair. Raph had been in a bad mood that day, proclaiming that he hated Leo._

_The rest of them had said it, too._

_But it hadn't really been true. Mikey shook his head. "No, I don't hate you, Leo."_

_Splinter allowed Mikey to stay with him until he fell asleep. Leo didn't seem to want him to go._

_But right before he drifted off, Leo had spoken in a voice no higher than a whisper. "He said that you would."_

&&&&&

Mikey now understood what Leo had meant that day.

But there was no time to think about that. Spiderman forgotten, he turned the channel to find the news. They were talking about the stupid Diamondbacks again.

He switched off the TV and made his way back to the kitchen. Raph was up now, moving around with all of the indications that he was _not_ a morning person.

Apparently, he'd seen the news before Mike had turned it off. Raph grinned at him. "What do ya say about goin' snake huntin' later today?"

&&&&&

Longer! It was longer!

So how was that chapter? Good, I hope.

Please review!


	4. A Cascade of Blood

(sniffs) Where for art thou, reviewers? Most of my regulars didn't review last time; and I thought that chapter was pretty good, myself.

(pounds head against wall) Must. Try. Harder.

Well, I suppose I should get to work, huh? Very well.

Disclaimer: They're not mine, okay? (cries in a heap on the floor) I don't own the TMNT, and I never will. Happy now?

&&&&&

Most of the people of New York City would probably find it unbelievable that there were mutated turtles, as well as a crocodile, living in their sewers. Many would find it unlikely that those four turtles were teenagers. And they'd certainly find it inconceivable that they knew Ninjitsu. But Donatello figured it would be even more unexplainable that one, if not _all_, of them had a greater IQ than their most prominent figures _and_ the most advanced technology this side of the galaxy, from the many other _unknown_ parts of others.

Unless they read the tabloids.

Still, with all of those computers and technological mysteries waiting to be worked and unraveled, Donny found himself bored. Like Raph, but to a _much_ lesser degree, he wasn't a morning person.

However, when awakened by Spiderman cartoons rather early in the morning and unable to fall back into sleep, he figured he might as well rise and get some work done. That was the engineer in him. The teenager had a much different outlook on the matter.

Sitting in his chair, facing his computer, his hand placed supportively under his chin and elbow on the table supporting that, Donny decided to go and get a cup of coffee.

He got up, careful not to disturb his well-organized mess, and went to exit his lab. But before he turned the corner, he immediately saw Leo standing to the side of the door, leaning against the wall.

He didn't look remarkably happy.

The purple-clad turtle looked at him closely. "Hi, Leo." He greeted. "You okay?"

Leo rubbed his thumb with the same digit of his other hand. He looked at Don for a second before turning his gaze back down to the floor and shaking his head slowly.

"What's wrong?"

Silence ensued. From years of experience with his siblings, Don had learned that, in matters like this, it was best to be patient. This, along with the fact that he could keep his mouth shut, was what made him better at keeping secrets than Mikey.

After another few seconds, Leo opened his mouth slightly, as if he wanted to say something, but then he abruptly closed it, seemingly debating whether or not he should say anything. Then he sighed, shaking his head slightly once more.

Knowing that there was clearly something bothering his brother, and not yet deterred, Donny decided to put off coffee for now. He looked back into his lab and took a step back in. "I'm not really doing anything important right now. If you need to talk, I'll be right in here."

It didn't take long. Without an answer, Leo quietly walked in as well, eyes still watching the floor dismally. Don followed after him, closing the door as he did so.

&&&&&

When Leo had headed in the direction of Donny's lab, he'd had every intention of talking to him. But with each step he'd taken, he'd changed his mind, slowly and regretfully.

How could he honestly tell what was bothering him this time without revealing Logan? It was impossible. Leo was alone on this one… for now, at least.

Nevertheless, when Donny had, in his discerning way, invited him in, Leo came. He wasn't planning on saying anything. And if he did, it wouldn't be much. He just didn't want to be alone right now.

Now, Don looked at him for a minute before sitting back in his chair. Leo sat on the floor; there were no other seats. Instead of going to work on his computer, which was glowing lightly, his purple-clad brother turned to some printouts on his desk. There, he could easily view them and Leo, from his peripheral vision.

Don, thankfully, didn't say anything. He was probably waiting for Leo to do so. But the blue-clad turtle was more comfortable at the moment in silence.

That was, until he looked at the miniature fountain sitting on a small table to the right of the room.

Besides the stuff they'd found that had been left for them when cleaning out Splinter's room, the four of them had relocated most, and nearly all, of their father's things. His books went among his sons' bookshelves, his plants to Mikey and Don, his weapons to the dojo; a few to Leo and Raph.

One of the things Don had decided to manage was that small fountain of Splinter's. Three small bonsai trees framed it, growing beautifully. Above them was a small pond, which flowed down like a waterfall onto an arrangement of rocks below it. A larger rock, placed at the edge of the cascade, split the water's flow in two.

It reminded Leo of the streams of blood that had flowed from Logan's nose that day, ten years ago.

Donny's voice spoke to him gently. "Leo, are you sure you don't have anything you need to say?"

Head turned abruptly to his younger brother; Leo immediately shook his head. "No, I'm fine."

From the look Don was giving him, it was obvious he didn't believe his older brother's lie.

Leo looked back down at his feet. "I thought I did, earlier." That wasn't a fib. "But it wasn't really that bad." That was. "I shouldn't keep on turning to you guys _every_ minute something like that happens. I need to learn to deal with it; it's not fair to you."

They were quiet for a few minutes. Finally, Don said, "We don't really mind, you know."

The blue-banded turtle looked at him. "_I_ do."

&&&&&

Before sitting down at the table to eat his breakfast, Raphael cleaned up the bowl of cereal that had been left, unfinished. Because he knew that Mikey had eaten in front of the TV, and that Don's breakfast dishes, smelling like _non_-burnt bacon, were in the sink, it meant that the bowl belonged to Leo.

Raph found that a little odd. Leo was usually very tidy; cleaner than the average teenager, but probably still worthy of reprimands from any neat-freak mother. Unless he was sick, or if they were watching a movie, the eldest turtle didn't leave dishes lying around.

As he put the bowl in the sink with a dull clank, glad to see it hadn't shattered, Raph took that as a sign that Leo was distracted by something.

What, he wasn't sure. Leo had been pretty good as of lately. If something was wrong, he'd say something.

_Unless it's really bad… _he thought, but dismissed the thought. In front of him, at least, Leo had shown no signs of being truly upset. He was spending more time outside lately, watching the snow, but Raph didn't think that was a problem.

Still, he decided to keep an eye on him.

Sitting down at the table, Raph began to make some plans for the day. First, he wanted to train for an hour or so in the dojo. Then he planned on going topside to knock some sense into that new gang. _Literally_.

&&&&&

Checking the temperature, Leo was glad to see that it had warmed up somewhat. It was nearly one in the afternoon now; the temperature had yet to reach the peak of its radiance. Any excuse he had not to wear that old coat, he took.

Now, he _was_ grateful for the protection from the cold, especially since he was cold-blooded. He just _really_ didn't like it. Leo didn't like all of the clothes humans wore; they were so confining. You couldn't move in them, and for a ninja, that was a must.

He waited at the door for his brothers. Raph wanted to go out and catch some Diamondbacks red-handed. Leo agreed, as he assumed Don and Mikey had done. Hopefully, they'd be able to turn away some of those young kids from a life of crime.

While violence might not scare them, four giant turtles employing some serious weapons _with_ experience might.

In less than a minute, Mikey was waiting by the door with them. Donny and Raph showed up at the same time, not even two minutes later. From the looks of it, the three of them had decided against coats as well.

Out into the sewers they went, up and through a manhole to the world above that stunk almost as badly as their home, in a different sense.

In an alley, Leo spoke to his brothers quietly, in case any pedestrians were walking by. While many probably wouldn't care, it'd be just their luck that one would. "Okay." He said. "I was thinking we should start with some of their more frequent hangouts. I've heard they like to put up a lot of graffiti behind that bowling alley, about five blocks from here."

Raph nodded. "I've heard that too."

Apparently Don had too. "Every time the owner has it taken down, something worse is up there the next morning."

Rubbing his hands, Mikey grinned. "Maybe we should make _them_ clean it up this time. Ya know, with toothbrushes." You could practically see the thought bubble above his head. "And we can make them sing, like… I don't know, the Barney song, or something. And-"

He was interrupted with a swift smack to the back of the head. Raph shook his head. "Just because _you _sing that crap doesn't mean we have to hear it in a chorus of smug brats."

Mikey stuck his tongue out at him. "I do _not_ watch Barney."

"Sesame Street, then." Raph said, making his way onto a rooftop.

"Hey," the orange-clad turtle spoke, following his temperamental brother with Leo and Don behind him; "there's nothing wrong with Sesame Street. You even watch it sometimes!"

"Dream on, shell-for-brains. Who cares if the letter of the day is 'H', and who gives a crap if the number is '3'?"

"Ha!" Mikey said. "How'd you know _that_ if you didn't watch it this morning?"

As the two continued with their argument, Donny and Leo just shook their heads and continued ahead of them.

The whole time, Leo couldn't help but think about that stupid fountain. Logan had said everything would be a reminder of him. How could he know that? It wasn't possible.

With a sigh, Leo decided to attribute it to stress. Still, Logan's reminder rang through his head. It ran loose among all the other things he was worried about. Like how was he supposed to handle the Diamondbacks, what Splinter's letter might say and simply working up the courage to open it.

And most importantly, what this sense of foreboding was related too.

Elmo sure didn't teach you how to deal with those kind of things, unfortunately.

&&&&&

Yeah, I know, this chapter was short. I'm sorry! But don't worry, the next one will be longer. I've been planning it for awhile.

So how was that? Good, I hope. (breathing heavily) For the love of humanity, please review!

Oh, also, thanks to the person (people?) who nominated Suicide for Best Story of the Year in this year's **FanFiction Competition**! Seriously, when I found out, I was shocked! You should've seen me; I was jumping up and down. Of course, when I told my Dad and Stepmom, they were just like: "What's that?" Doesn't the title speak for itself? Oh well, I'm still happy.

Also, I'd like to mention that I side with Mikey on the Sesame Street business. Elmo's World is dumb, if you ask me, but I love Grover and Cookie Monster. And I like to see the special guests they have. _Please_ don't make fun of me for that!

Anyways, I gotta go now. So, once again, please review!


	5. Beneath

(wipes sweat off brow) Thew! I was almost afraid that Chapter 4 would go unnoticed and that I was writing for nobody but myself! Thank you _so_ much for reviewing!

So nice to be back! (hugs computer) I love the Internet, but my stepfather doesn't. Someday, I swear I'll buy my own laptop with access to the web! Just gotta save up my money… (looks at allowance) Maybe I'll see you guys more often in two years! (cries)

But that's enough talk for now. Time to get to the chapter! Enjoy!

Disclaimer: TMNT ain't mine. My parents say I'm not allowed to ruin a popular cartoon show until I'm older.

&&&&&

Clouds of red, purple, yellow, and green, all in neon colors, decorated the back wall of the bowling alley. Standing afar from it, you could better see how the thick lines flowed together to present to its viewers various artistic renderings of obscene words and pictures.

_This_ was the real famed art of New York. There just weren't any buyers.

Shaking his head, Raph noticed the artists themselves to the right, by a few trashcans, admiring their work. Silently, he pointed them out to his brothers.

After a quick and soundless conversation, he and Leo crept up behind the kids like the shadows that surrounded them here. Behind a pile of bicycles, backs to a dumpster, they were better able to make them out. There were three Diamondbacks, each wearing a dark jacket with the image of a snake _painted_ on it.

Talk about organized crime. Raph suddenly wondered if these guys were really worth a spot on the local news, much less his time.

_Oh well_. He thought, looking to his left, at Leo. His older brother nodded, and with that, they each leapt up, grabbing one Diamondback as they did so.

The two young boys cried out as they were thrown over the turtles' shoulders and back against the dumpster. Turning to see what was happening, the other one squawked and drew a switchblade. He seemed surprised by their appearance, but was trying to look menacing.

Simultaneously, Leo and Raph drew their weapons. The red-clad turtle grinned. "Nice blade, kid. But you might wanna check ours out first."

For the longest time, the punk just stared open-mouthed at them for a second. He looked rather amusing with that face, especially with a bottom lip pierced twice, along with his right eyebrow. With his hair dyed dark blue, Raph was sure he was the fear of many of his schoolmates.

But right now, he looked more like the star of the traveling circus.

As the Diamondback took a step back, all three of them turned their heads to the sound of punches behind them. They saw none other than Mike and Don standing by the other two gangsters. Apparently, they had put up a fight. Now they were clutching their arms, which would certainly show bruises in the morning.

Neither of the other two turtles had drawn their weapons. Instead, they had a bundle of cleaning utensils and soap. With a smile, they handed them to the boys.

They took the without complaint.

But the other Diamondback wasn't going so easily. He had recovered from his shock and was now standing before them like any other seemingly fearless delinquent. "I ain't scared of you." He spat. "So what- you got some sharp swords 'n toothpicks?" He shrugged, held up his knife. "Whatta I got to be scared of?"

The four turtles exchanged glances. With a sigh, Leo took out a shuriken, throwing it. It went over the boy's shoulder and into a brick wall behind him.

Silence. Then the kid smiled and turned back. "Ya missed."

Leo's face was calm. "Check again."

Wrinkling his brow, the Diamondback took a few steps backward, obviously not wanting to turn his back on the giant turtles before him. When he reached the wall, he turned his neck just far enough to see where the shuriken was, keeping an eye on them.

Further inspection revealed a fly pinned to the wall by the shuriken.

He looked back at Leo, not saying a word. The blue-banded turtle crossed his katanas before him. "Just because you have the weapons doesn't mean you can use them."

Now Don and Mikey drew their weapons, the latter smiling as he gave his nunchuck a twirl. "I can _guarantee_ that we know how to use them."

With a wicked grin, Raph looked at the young teenager. "Ya scared yet?"

Looking from Mike to Don to Leo to Raph, the kid dropped his switchblade. "Whatta ya freaks want from me?"

"For starters," Don began, indicating the graffiti; "you can clean this up."

Putting away his sais, Raph walked up and grabbed the collar of the Diamondback jacket. "And you can tell us where some of you're buddies are."

Trying to wriggle away from Raph's grip, he said, "I don't know where all of them are! What am I, they're mother?"

The hothead just gave him a look that said don't-mess-with-me.

"Um, well, I know some of them were gonna be at Hope Memorial in about three hours. But seriously! That's all I got!"

Raph turned back to look at the others. They nodded. That information would be good for now.

Quickly, he let go of the jacket. The Diamondback took a step backward. Raph cocked his head and quietly straightened out the kid's collar before turning back.

As he did, he noticed Leo hesitating. The elder turtle looked more apprehensive than usual, like he expected Death himself to suddenly appear, demanding his payment of blood, with interest.

Knowing Leo, that could very well be his true thoughts, though, more likely, in a more practical way.

Watching him carefully, Raph disappeared into the shadows.

Mikey immediately took his place in front of their little informant. With a smile, he put a small scrubbing brush in his hand. "Have fun." The youngest turtle whispered, before he too was gone.

&&&&&

Above them, on the rooftops, they continued until a safe distance was acquired.

The sun was beating down as best as it could through the gray clouds that blanketed the sky. It produced little warmth, mainly illumination.

Leo was looking at that sky when he heard Mikey speak from behind him. "You okay, bro?"

Nodding, Leo turned to him. "Yeah, I'm fine." He bit his lip, thinking about the information that the Diamondbacks had given them. "Hey, does the name of that cemetery sound familiar to any of you guys?"

Donny looked at him curiously. "Hope Memorial? I think I've seen some advertisements for it on television recently."

"I know I have." Mikey snorted. "Who wants to see a friendly reminder of death while you're watching a horror movie?"

A few seconds after his brother's comment, Leo nodded again. _That must be where I heard it._

With a sigh, turning back to the sky, he shook his head at his own paranoia. "It just sounds so familiar."

&&&&&

They spent their three-hour wait at April's house. The redhead made a fuss over them not wearing any coats in her motherly attitude she seemed to be adopting since meeting them.

Of course, any mentioning of this disposition would be rewarded with a swift and painful slap to the back of the head, as Mikey unfortunately found out.

Sure, Raph hit him in the same place several times in one day, but it was different with women. The orange-clad turtle found that they were naturally better at it.

April _really_ valued being young and single.

But the whole time they were at her apartment, Leo kept himself subdued. With each passing moment, Mikey could see his mood growing darker; his spirit dejected; his movements slower and tense.

Michelangelo suddenly realized his brother was scared.

Back by the bowling alley, he, along with Raph and Donny, had seen that Leo was acting funny. They just had yet to understand why.

Now, as they were cautiously heading to Hope Memorial, Mike was forced to take his mind off his brother.

Going into cemeteries was always a dangerous idea. Often, there were no buildings and shrubbery to hide behind.

Anyone could see you.

But luckily, this was one of the more private graveyards. Had it been more public, they probably would've just called in a tip to the cops.

Trees adorned the landscape as if they'd been purposefully placed to give a feeling of serenity. Leafless, their branches were burdened with heavy piles of pristine snow, as was the ground itself. The only thing that was green in this place was the turtles walking through it.

The graves themselves were still visible. None were marked with mere plaques. Most headstones were only raised up a few inches, slanted to prevent the concealment of names; but some were rather tall, up to a few feet.

And one of those tombstones was quickly getting shorter.

Towards the right corner of the cemetery, a group of seven, accommodated by thick boots, shotguns, and metal pipes, were destroying an expensive marker. These Diamondbacks were clearly much more serious than the three from the bowling alley.

But they were still amateurs, compared to the Purple Dragons. The only things that looked to be a problem were the guns. As ninjas, they were fast, but not fast enough to stop a bullet.

To his left, Donatello took out his bo staff. "I still can't believe they're doing this so early in the day. It _is_ darker, but anyone could see them."

Raph nodded. "Either they're really bold, or really stupid."

Placing his hand against the trunk of a tree, Leo studied the group. "Probably a combination of both. But they do have one thing going for them. It's winter, and with those dark clouds out," he said, indicating the stormy puffs that had yet to disappear; "it creates not only a somber mood, but bad weather conditions. Most people prefer visiting the dead in happier and safer conditions."

Not wanting this to go on much longer, Raph drew his sais. "Pure luck. So are we doin' this, or what?"

With an uncertain nod from Leo, they attacked.

In situations like this, when the enemy was unaware of you, the first part of the battle was usually the easiest. Therefore, getting the most dangerous threat out of the way was the best thing to start with.

Donny helped take care of that. Only three of the Diamondbacks were carrying shotguns. With his staff, he took care of two of them. Since they were facing away from the turtles, it was quick. With a swift hit to the back of the head, both were out and on the ground in seconds.

Of course, then the other five were aware of what was happening. The other Diamondback was getting his gun aimed when Leo flipped over Don and landed in front of him, swords forcing the gun up, where it fired into the sky.

Two of the other gang members turned to their fallen partners, probably looking for the guns… which were nowhere to be seen.

A tap on the shoulder turned them around. Mikey smiled at them. "Sorry," he said, holding up two shotguns, now busted; "were you looking for these?"

Dropping the guns, he used his nunchucks to knock one unconscious. The other one moved out of the way just in time. He had a pipe, swinging it at Mike just as he turned and ducked beneath it, far out of its range.

Raphael was taking on a taller Diamondback with a long dagger. This one was more experienced than the three that had fallen. Quick, Raph found himself blocking more than attacking, which Mikey knew he didn't like.

However, focused on pushing the red-clad turtle back, he wasn't moving with precision. As he missed his target, Raph moved to the right and kicked him in the side.

The boy went flying into the Diamondback Donny was fighting. Knocking that one down, he quickly righted himself, taking on the purple-banded ninja instead while Raph moved quickly to help.

Leo, meanwhile, was doing well against the one with the shotgun. He, like Raph, had been loosing ground, when, with one mighty swipe of his katana, he cut through the weapon.

However, once that was done, the Diamondback kicked his foot straight into Leo's plastron, sending the turtle tripping over one of the small headstones behind his feet. He narrowly escaped hitting his head on the one following it.

His assailant took out a switchblade.

Mikey, watching all of this, yelled for Leo to look out while using the chain of one nunchuck to get the pipe out of his Diamondback's hands and into the other's chest.

Hearing a yell, he turned around to see Raph and Donny take off after the two remaining Diamondbacks, who hopped the fence. The one before Mikey had followed their path while his back was turned.

"C'mon, Leo." Mikey called out to his brother.

Leo didn't move. He had turned over by now, and was in the position of pushing himself up when he'd stopped. Now, he was looking at the slab before him, breathing heavily, reading it over and over again. "He's right under me…" he whispered to no one, "Right under me."

Mike walked over behind him, an invisible, sick feeling welling in his stomach. He read the words printed in neat capitals, centered on the headstone.

Logan David Acker

Leo was still looking at the letters. "How'd he know?" he whispered over and over again. "How'd he know?"

&&&&&

So, was that any better? I'm not very good with action sequences, but I tried my best!

Well, I now know which of my stories have been nominated for the FanFiction Competition, and for what for. If you're interested, see my profile!

Thank you so much for reading, now please review! It'd be most appreciated!


	6. Haunting

Time for another chapter! (silence) Oh, you all sound _so_ enthusiastic.

(blinks) Oh. You were just waiting for me to finish. Very well! I'm done!

Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own the TMNT. That was so funny, I forgot to laugh. (weeps)

&&&&&

As children, it had always been Michelangelo who had the wildest imagination. But, as he further began to indulge in the written word, Leo found himself conjecturing more often, vivid pictures and tales that entertained him.

But now, he was beginning to hate that new aspect of himself. Stretched out across the _real_ Logan Acker's grave, his imagination was torturing him mercilessly.

It wasn't happening in real life; it wasn't happening in his mind, him not being catatonic at the moment. But all he could see was an image of the earth being torn open slowly by bony fingers, eventually releasing what had been lying beneath for ten years.

Leo could almost see a skeletal frame coming to a stand before him, fleshly remains hanging off his bones. He could almost smell the rotting tissues. And even worse, he could imagine this version of Logan smiling at him, just like he had when Leo was six years old. Right before he killed himself.

Only six feet of dirt and a coffin was separating Logan from Leo. That wasn't good enough.

Hiccups started to escape from his mouth, slow it first, but then picking up speed. He felt someone's hand land on his shoulder.

Jumping at the touch, half fearing that his conception of the decaying Logan had actually happened. He was much more relieved to see it was Mikey.

His brother looked at him, obviously concerned. "C'mon, bro." He said. "Let's get you out of here."

Practically frozen in place, Leo nodded, wanting so badly to get out of this place, but having to be guided by Mikey. The orange-banded turtle kept his hand on Leo's arm, leading him away from the cemetery.

Away from Logan.

Logan, who haunted him at all times. Who would continue to do so, no matter how far Leo got away from his body.

Logan, who somehow had known about this… or had he?

&&&&&

Several months had passed since Mikey had last heard his older brother hiccup. Around nine months ago, they'd found out he only acted like that when he was afraid; scared closer to death than he'd like to go.

Mike found himself caught in a difficult situation. Leo, for starters, probably needed to be taken home _now_, or at least to a place where he felt safe. He was no psychiatrist, but Mikey had a pretty good idea that it would do him a lot of good to be in a comfortable environment. That excluded cemeteries.

However, Raph and Don weren't here, having gone to fight the remaining Diamondbacks. And while he knew they were more than capable of defending themselves, Mikey also knew that the four of them had a nasty habit of getting into tight predicaments that could only get tighter. They might need help.

But how could he risk bringing Leo into such a fight when he was like _this_?

Though his mind was clouded with these thoughts, and though Leo was seemingly in a daze, Mikey was able to get him into an alleyway, deserted and safe from any curious passerby's.

He had Leo sit on a crate filled with paint cans, their labels reading 'Candy Apple Red'. A sign on the door said 'Out to Lunch'. Mike suspected the obvious; either a team of supervillians was planning to _literally _paint the town red, as an ironic joke, or the people who lived in this apartment were decorating.

The orange-clad turtle knew the correct answer to be the latter one. But he felt better when he could find even the smallest bit of humor during times like these.

Maybe I could leave him here for a little bit… 

**The idea was immediately discarded. Leo wasn't catatonic right now; his arms wrapped around his stomach, looking around, back towards Hope Memorial and then to his brother. Mikey would have thought it more likely for him to have an episode now instead of during a Spiderman marathon. However, he appeared** to be having something that looked more or less like what Mike could only guess to be an anxiety attack.

From what Mike had told Donny about his memories of when they were younger, his brother had come to the conclusion that, besides catatonia, their older sibling might be suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder.

Leo did crazier stuff when he was like this than when he was catatonic…

He couldn't be left alone.

As he took out his Shell Cell, Michelangelo decided to call his brothers for some input, hoping they weren't too bust catching Diamondbacks by their tails.

Pressing the red button that would connect him to Raph, Mikey was rewarded with a dial tone.

His temperamental brother answered quicker than he thought, though not with the traditional 'hello'. "_What?_"

Mikey could hear the sounds of fighting in the background. "Nice to hear from you too, Raphy boy."

There was a growl. "_Mikey… Where the hell are you and Leo?_"

"Not too far from the cemetery, he replied. "You and Don handling the Diamondbacks okay?"

Raph laughed. There was a pause in the conversation as he dealed out what Mike assumed was a kick. He came back on. "_Yeah. They led us to a few more members, but they're about as tough as whipped cream. Only we're doin' the whippin'._"

Letting out a sigh of relief, Mikey got to the point. "Well, that's good. Raph, I'm gonna need to take Leo back to the lair; I don't think he'd be able to fight right about now."

Another pause; another kick. But when Raph came back, he sounded more concerned. "_Why? He hurt?_"

"He's-" starting to tell him Leo was fine, Mikey took another look at his words. You couldn't call Leo _okay_ when he was so visibly upset, could you? "Well… ah, I'll tell you what happened when you come home, bro. But don't worry, he ain't wounded, or anything."

The red-clad ninja sounded upset with the verdict, but he accepted it, nonetheless. "_All right. Fine. We'll be home in a few, 'kay?_"

"'Kay. See ya."

They hung up.

Putting the Shell Cell back where he kept it, Mikey turned to Leo, smiling in hopes of reassuring him. "All right, bro. Let's go home now, okay?"

Getting to his feet slowly, Leo nodded. "All right…" he mumbled.

The time had dwindled on since they'd first come out here. It was getting colder. Mikey shivered. "And when we get back to the lair, I'm gonna make you some of my famous hot chocolate- and not the kind made of mud that I gave you when we were kids."

Leo's mouth twitched, like he was trying to smile. But he didn't laugh.

&&&&&

Six unconscious bodies were tied to a wide telephone pole. Donny was just finishing his call, tipping the police off to the Diamondback's location, as well as those that should still be out in the cemetery.

He snorted as Don put the device away. "I thought snakes were supposed to be vicious and deadly."

"To some people they might actually be. Still, a snake isn't as tough as a dragon." his purple-clad brother said, "Okay, ready to go back?"

Raph nodded. "Yeah." He'd told Don about his and Mikey's phone conversation. Referring to it, he asked, "What do ya think Mike was talking about?"

"Well, I honestly couldn't explain that to you, Raph. The only thing he really said was that Leo couldn't fight and that he wasn't wounded."

As they headed to the nearest manhole cover, Raph thought about it. "Think he went catatonic?"

Donatello pushed the heavy lid aside. "I think Mikey probably would've _told_ you that if it was so simple."

Frowning, Raph took the hidden meaning from his words. "You think something really weird happened."

All his brother did was nod.

&&&&&

Passing the kitchen as they walked in the door, Donny noticed Mikey in the kitchen, drowning down a cup of hot chocolate. Don walked in and looked around.

"Talk about Mister Generous," he teased, "doesn't even make a cup of cocoa for anyone else."

"I did too." Mikey defended himself. "I made some for Leo."

Raph, also in the kitchen, started to make his own beverage. "Yet me and Don were the ones who were fighting. And you call me insensitive."

"Hey," Mikey started. Don could hear the seriousness creeping into his voice; "Leo needed it." He added softly to himself, "I'm surprised he didn't go catatonic on me."

Donny looked at him, curiosity running through his veins. "Where's he at?"

Moving out of the kitchen, Mike pointed him out, sitting on the couch in the den. In his hands was a mug of cocoa that was obviously unfinished. The blue-banded turtle stared at it in his hands, fingers going along the porcelain surface.

"What happened up there?" Raph asked directly, whispering.

Mikey looked at them, before motioning them back into the kitchen. After a few seconds, he explained. "After you guys took off, when me and Leo were still fighting, Leo tripped over the back of one headstone and landed on the grave behind it." He paused. "When he was getting up, he noticed the name…"

Raph frowned. "Whose was it?"

Dreading the answer, Donny unknowingly took in a deep and silent breath. Part of him expected the answer, but hoped it was wrong.

"Logan's." Mikey finished. He didn't have to say the last name. They knew there could only be one Logan that would affect Leo like that.

"Hope Memorial." Donny mumbled. He shook his head. "I should've remembered. The newspaper clipping said that's where he was buried."

"It was nobody's fault." Raph tried to assure him.

Though all of them wanted to go right to Leo then and there, they knew it'd do no good. It'd be better to wait until he was calmer, and until they _knew_ what to say.

Mikey put his hands together. "Anyone still want some hot cocoa?"

&&&&&

Hours went by. Sitting alone in the dark, Leo was hardly aware of them; only mindful of the passing of time by his family coming to ask him if he wanted something to eat.

Dinner had been a pepperoni and turkey sandwich, served on two thick, toasted slices of bread and glued together by melted mozzarella cheese. There was dessert, too, chocolate ice cream. Both were Leonardo's favorites.

He wasn't hungry, though.

This whole time, he hadn't moved from his spot on the couch, his eyes focused on either his hands or the floor, rarely anything else.

At the moment, Leo was just now taking one of the last few tastes of his sweet beverage, which had long ago stopped being hot. Cold, it didn't slide down the throat so easily. Leo didn't mind, but he only drank it to have something in his stomach, taking it in with small, regular sips.

So far, there'd been no visits from Logan. Not since this morning. He'd half been expecting him, smiling and taunting him, at _least _explaining this.

That disturbed Leo. The fact that he expected this inner demon; was waiting for him, almost _wanting _him to make sense of things was scary.

Rubbing one finger over the ceramic curve of his cup, Leo closed his eyes. _You know you're crazy when you expect the _dead_, imaginary guy in your head to give you the answers to your problems._

Leo unconsciously gripped the mug tighter.

Logan had been the asshole who created the problems in the first place.

A soft, yellow light flickered on in the room, surprising him as he opened his eyes. The unexpected change in illumination burned temporarily. As his eyes adjusted, he wondered who was in the room.

Raph's rough voice spoke to him quietly. Whether it was because he was sympathetic or whether he didn't want to wake up everyone else, Leo didn't know. "You gonna sit here all night?"

The blue-clad turtle put about as much effort into his shrug that he did into breathing.

Coming over closer to him, Raph folded his arms over the back of the couch. "Three AM. Time for bed, wouldn't ya say?"

Refusing to meet his brother's stare. Leo sat his mug in between his legs. "I don't want to go up to my room."

"Why?" Raph cut in. His abruptness made Leo jump. Raph's voice softened. "What's up?"

Upstairs, in his room, was where Logan seemed to thrive. Leo most often went catatonic there. And while he… dare he say, _needed_ to know what Logan meant, he didn't want to see him; speak with him.

"I just don't wan to." Leo said quietly.

Raph sighed and placed his head in his hands momentarily before walking around the couch and sitting down. Anyone could tell he was frustrated. It was only when one of his brothers was upset like this that Raph reached out to them in this way, willing to take care of them and protect them from themselves.

He turned his body to face Leo and gestured to the couch. "Ya wanna sleep here?"

Night; darkness.

Leo cocked his head but did not look at his brother. "I wasn't sure I was gonna sleep at all."

"You need to, bro." Raph paused. "Look, I know seein' Logan's grave had to be freaky," he put his hand on Leo's shoulder and turned him to face him; "but ya gotta listen to me. He's _dead_. The only way he can bother you is if ya keep doin' this to yourself."

It always surprised him, how wise Raph was getting.

But he wasn't entirely right.

"Logan might be gone, Raph, but he'll always be here. No matter what _I _do, he's never gonna leave."

&&&&&

A pillow was already placed under Leo's head. Silently, and with a gentleness that he only displayed, on those rare occasions, for family, Raph draped a blanket over his brother's sleeping form.

Everything was so cold. The world outside, the lair, Leo's dampening spirit, heck, even the hot chocolate that Leo hadn't finished was freezing. Anything that could be warmed should be. Raph was going to discuss the broken heater with Donny tomorrow.

After forcing Leo to eat something, which had turned out only to be a slice of cheese, Raph had made him swallow a couple of sleeping pills.

He'd become of his sibling's inability to sleep.

It didn't take long for the pills to kick in. Leo was sleeping peacefully now, even if he was on the couch, which Raph wouldn't recommend as a bed to anyone except his worst enemies.

Putting a quilt over Leo as well, just in case, Raph made sure he was comfortable before turning out the lights and leaving the room, heading upstairs for some sleep of his own.

The comment Leo had made always being here made Raph uneasy. He knew his brother wasn't talking about a ghost, but he might as well have been. Leo had refused to elaborate on the eerie statement, so Raph had reluctantly dropped the subject.

But now he knew for sure that something was wrong.

Climbing into his hammock, Raph closed his eyes. Whatever it was would have to wait until tomorrow, when everyone's minds were clearer and the light had banished the darkness to the farther corners of the earth. Where, for a time, it couldn't haunt them everywhere they turned.

&&&&&

There! That was a good four hundred words longer! Can you believe we're already on the sixth chapter?

Well, please review!


	7. Lightning

(appears out of thin air) Tada! Ya know, magic is _so_ much easier online.

Hey, everyone remember that problem I had with Dead of Night, when I was writing the _first_ Suicide? Well, now it's kind of switched around. I wanna finish Dead of Night _so_ bad! I mean, now with only five chapters left, it'll be a lot easier.

But I must work on this too! I also need to make longer chapters; otherwise it may end up being as long as the above-mentioned story. Hmm… that won't work out well.

I'll think about it later. Oh! So you know, this chapter shall make no/very little mentions of food, out of consideration of pacphys, who is a victim of bad-weather-don't wanna-get-out-of-the-house-syndrome. We all know what that's like!

Anyways, I better just get on with it. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: If you tell me that I really own the TMNT, you're either Eastman and Laird going through their mid-life crisis or someone playing a cruel joke. Since it's probably the latter, I suggest you don't do that. I'm armed, and, at times, dangerous.

&&&&&

One week had passed. For the first three of those seven days, Leo had continued to sleep on the couch. Donny had been kind enough to retrieve Leo's current reading material, The Collected Works of Edgar Alan Poe, which had been a gift from April. The blue-clad turtle had silently refused to go into his room, fearing Logan would strike when he was alone. However, on the fourth night, after lying on that couch for the past three days, though he had barely slept since the first night, had created enough back pain for him that he eventually gave in and entered the dreaded zone.

One week had passed. So far, none of his brothers had mentioned the incident at the cemetery. Whether this was out of concern for his sensitivity of the subject or of their inability to put their thoughts into the right words, Leonardo wasn't sure. He wouldn't be surprised if it was another reason entirely.

One week had passed. Leo had yet to go catatonic again. No visits from Logan _at all_, besides the ones Leo played out in his hand, trying to find some measure of order in this mess.

He should have been happy; relieved that he'd gotten through such a trauma without being plunged into that world of darkness.

But that was just the thing. Leo didn't think he _had_ gotten through it yet.

For awhile now, he'd sensed bad weather making its way into his psychological affairs. And he'd thought right. Now, he was presented with a very interesting question: Was this the calm before the storm, or was he already passing under the hurricane?

Leo had seen news programs since youth; heard about the damage that natural catastrophes could cause. He knew storms could be deadly.

But he didn't even have a three-second warning, no idea whatsoever as to what he needed to prepare for.

&&&&&

As Donatello washed the dishes from the past few days, he watched Leo, who was sitting at the table, staring at the grain work that made it, from the corner of his eye.

With each dish that he put away, proudly sparkling with more cleanliness that it had displayed in a long while, Donny became more convinced that his elder brother had no idea that he was watching him.

He was obviously distracted. Usually, Leo was aware of nearly everything that was going on around him, though sometimes he chose not to comment on it. The blue-banded turtle was astute in practically all aspects; even their enemies knew of this.

That was, unless something was _deeply_ troubling him.

Putting the final spotless dish in the cupboard, Don nodded to himself. Yes, something _was_ bothering his brother. And Donny had a good idea as to what that something was.

For the past week, no one had really spoken to Leo about Logan's grave, not in a way that would get through to him. Don couldn't speak for his brothers, but he knew what _his_ reasons were.

What could he honestly say? _Move on? I understand that this is difficult for you, but you got to get over it?_

_Yeah. Right._ That would be a lie. They _didn't_ understand. Sure, they knew any reminder of Logan caused Leo pain, but they had no idea how he _actually_ felt. They could only imagine.

It was hard to believe, but only a little over a week ago, Leo had been joking with them; getting along with life and taking its ups and downs like the rest of them.

Now, Donny was watching him tunnel back into himself, almost hiding from them again. Leo was in the process of making an enormous backslide. Don just couldn't standby and let that happen.

Walking over to the table, he sat down, opposite side from his brother. "Leo?"

Blinking once, Leo slowly looked up. That was his only response.

But Don had his attention. Knowing this, he continued. "Can you tell me what's wrong? I know that what happened last week, at the cemetery; I know that it scared you." He bit his lip. "Just… tell me what about it is still bothering you."

Leo stared at him for several seconds before looking away. Remembering the conversation he'd had with him that day, now seeming so far into their past, Don added, "We want to help you, Leo. I know there's some things you want to try and handle on your own, but this is something you don't need or have to handle by yourself."

After a wave of silence, Leo sighed. "It's too hard to explain, Don. I… I keep thinking he's gonna pop up anytime…" His eyes got a distant look to them, as if he were imagining that person in front of him now. Don didn't have to ask who it was. "When I saw Logan's grave, I imagined him talking to me; coming up out of the ground to hunt me- like a zombie." Leo paused. "Just… I didn't know it was all just in my head then."

Frowning, Don put his elbows on the table, ignoring what a parent might consider to be bad table manners. He leaned forward a bit.

Why was he getting the feeling that Leo's words were barely even skimming the surface of a pond, frozen solid?

"You're scared that he'd be coming out to get you? Why would he want to do that?"

Donny had several of his own answers to that question in mind. But one of the bigger parts of counseling someone was letting _them_ tell you what was wrong, instead of _you_ labeling them with a problem, which could be very well be incorrect in the first place.

Leo answered his question rather quickly, almost absent-mindedly. "I think he wants me to suffer."

Back straightening at those words, Don suddenly _knew_ that his brother hadn't been telling them everything. And while there were some things that were better to keep to yourself, he didn't think that this was one of them.

Leo spoke of Logan like he was still alive. He'd never done that before, not in front of him, anyways.

But accusing Leo wouldn't help at all, no matter how much Donny wanted to make him tell him what was really going on. For now, he'd go along with it. "Why would he want you to suffer?"

Not seeming to notice his mistake, Leo shook his head, suddenly uncomfortable. "I don't know…" He lifted himself up and began to walk out of the room.

But as he was leaving, Don thought he heard him say something that sent shivers down his spine.

"If I get the chance, I'll ask him."

&&&&&

Slowly, his brother's reactions had made themselves evident; important enough to drive their way into Raphael's hardhead.

It didn't take a genius to figure out that Leo was purposefully _avoiding_ his room. But it _did_ take _some _thought to figure out _why_.

After several days of pondering over this very question, with more than less breaks in between, Raph realized that it was the same very reason that had had Leo avoiding any reconciliation of his repressed memory.

He was scared.

But this time, it wasn't a dark memory of his past that has Leo so unnerved, as he'd become since seeing Logan's grave. No, this time it was of his own room.

And that didn't make any sense. Leo had slept here for the past eight months without complaint. Granted, as time moved forward, he'd spent less and less time in it…

Maybe that was a sign. Maybe he'd been fearing his room this whole time, after all.

Raph snorted. He could understand _that _much. With Leo, things like fear and anxiety weren't instantaneous; they started out as little seeds, growing over time. The blue-clad turtle needed a _reason _to be scared, even if he was paranoid.

Standing in the doorway, the temperamental turtle shook his head. He doubted Leo was afraid of the room itself. _Something in the room, then. _Taking a deep breath, he entered. _So what's so scary about this?_

Unlike Mikey's room, which _could_ be scary at times, Leo's room was immaculate; Raph had never seen it in a state where it took longer than ten minutes to clean it, while the rest of the turtles' had a different story.

On one side of the room, to the right, sat Leo's bed, made with no creases in the sheets. To the right of that was a nightstand, housing a lamp, a near-empty glass of water, and a _thick_ book. According to the placement of the bookmark, Leo was nearly finished with it.

Nothing scary there. Raph even checked under the bed. There wasn't even a single, mutated dust bunny, ready to either join the family or terrorize it.

Leaning against the wall was Leo's sword stand, temporarily holding nothing. Above it, actually on the wall, with plenty of room and thus arranged nice and neatly were a few swords of all sorts of varieties, kept on display along with several other Japanese weaponry Leo admired, including the dagger Splinter had left for him.

Speaking of Splinter, there was one last thing hanging on the wall. Splinter's letter. Unopened. As it had been for months now.

Sighing, Raph looked away from what was their father and teacher's parting words to his eldest son. The red-clad turtle's _own_ letter had shown him how much Splinter had truly cared for him, no matter how many times he'd rebelled.

As unexplainable as it was, it was one of Raph's most cherished items.

As much as he wanted Leo to see for himself how much Splinter had loved them all, no matter what they did, he somewhat understood that he couldn't force his brother to see it if he wasn't willing- wasn't ready.

He continued his search, quickly coming to the last thing in the room.

Fit snugly against the left corner of the room was a bookshelf. While it wasn't new, nearly all of the books were. Besides the literary works, a small cluster of CD's sat on the lowest shelf. All alternative rock, the greater part of the collection was instrumental; Leo liked guitars. But some were by bands, namely Linkin Park.

But, by all means, this _was_ a bookshelf. The older ones, on the top shelf, were historical, particularly on war. Included in this collection was a copy of Sun Tzu's _The Art of War_.

The newer books filled nearly four of the seven shelves. Besides April and Don, Raph had no idea where Leo got them from. Mostly, they were by the same authors; there were a great many by Michael Crichton, Dean Koontz, and Edgar Alan Poe.

Randomly grabbing one book, _The Taking_, by Koontz, Raph flipped the book open to a part about a doll, controlled by aliens, that started speaking words that shouldn't be in a toy's vocabulary. Not only that, as it told the people how 'dying hurts', it gave a visual, ripping its tongue and eyes out of its plastic body.

Raph put the book back. So far, these novels were the scariest things he'd found in the room.

Yet, he knew they weren't the problem. Leo _liked_ to read stuff like this. Raph even remembered when his brother had read that book; with great interest, Leo had finished it in two days.

That was one of the places where these two differed. Raph was by no means scared, but he'd prefer action in his terror, whereas Leo would take that _and _the dark, enigmatic stuff. As long as it had an explanation, Leo enjoyed it.

So what was the problem? _Splinter's letter?_ Raph shook his head, his hands forming into fists out of frustration. That didn't fit in with the puzzle. It needed to have something to do with Logan; otherwise Leo still wouldn't be so upset.

_I'm missin' somethin'. _Raph turned back to the bookshelf. _So what the heck is it?_

Suddenly, on the second shelf, nearly hidden by a large book, Raph noticed a much thinner one. He strained his eyes to see the title. His fists loosened when he did.

_Jack and the Beanstalk._

He knew the special meaning that that story held for Leo; remembered how frightening that day had been, as well as how important it was.

The smallest of noises found Raph's ears. Quickly, he turned back to the doorway.

Leo was standing just outside of it.

&&&&&

The last time he'd seen him, Logan had left him with a warning; a promise of constant, troublesome reminders.

And so far, he'd been right.

After the grave itself, other things had occurred in Leo's daily life that made him think of Logan; the day he died.

Last night, for example, while he'd been reading, drinking a glass of water as he was doing so, Leo recalled the cup _Logan_ had been drinking out of, right before he died. It had been filled with rat poison.

Brown eyes reminded him of Logan. Sometimes, it seemed that Raph was smiling just like Logan. He couldn't look at the newspaper anymore because, hidden somewhere in his bookshelf, he had the printout of a news article on, unsurprisingly, Logan!

There were so many things going on. And as they did, Leo was finding a deeper hatred for the boy who had caused it.

No- he hated the _power_ he had over him. All Logan had done was plant the seed. _Leo_ had let it grow; evolve into this paranoid obsession.

_So you hate yourself?_

Shaking his head, Leo refused to believe that. Instead, he turned that hatred back against Logan once more.

He'd been heading to his room. All he'd wanted to do was get his book. That was all.

Standing in the doorway, he was immediately frozen in place. It took less than two seconds to see it was only Raph in his room.

But for a moment there, he could've sworn it was _him_, the only other person who knew what _really_ happened when he went catatonic.

Leo put his hand on the doorframe. "Raph, what're you doing in here?"

For a brief second there, his red-clad brother had looked guilty when he saw him. Now, arms crossed, he was trying to wipe it off his face. His look was firm. "Lookin' for somethin.'" He said cautiously.

"In my room?" Leo asked, crossing his arms as well.

Raph nodded. He had brown eyes…

Breaking eye contact, Leo entered and made his way to the small table by his bed, picking up the collected works of Mister Poe. "Hope you found it."

"Didn't." After a brief pause, Raph added, "Not yet."

Avoiding the glass, Leo started to walk out of the room. He looked over his shoulder, just so he could see the form of his brother; at least know what he was doing. "Whatever it is, I don't think you'll find it here."

He thought that Raph looked confused then. "You even know what I'm talkin' about, bro?"

Leo shrugged, heading for the exit.

Sighing, Raph followed him. Now in the hallway, when he was only a few inches behind him, he heard Raph whisper. "Then I guess ya can't help me look."

&&&&&

It was rather fun to play little games of pretend, even at this age. And it was _especially_ fun when you got to annoy one or more of your brothers at the same time.

Mikey's game at the moment was Lab Assistant. His 'employer' hadn't exactly _hired_ him, but he was surprised that his career had gone on for as long as it had.

Irritated, Donny left his lab to make a phone call. Honestly having no clue what his brother was working on right now, Mike shrugged and left, bowing to Don with a sarcastic smile as he left.

As luck would have it, the first person he bumped into was Raph. And he did _not_ look to be in the mood for a Battle Nexus crack.

But instead of beating him up for something he hadn't done, which he rarely did anymore, Raph went into the dojo. He didn't practice; just stood there, deep in thought.

Now _that_ was a scary image.

All in all, his red-banded brother looked unhappy. Turning back around, he noticed that Leo had been there the whole time, as well, hidden behind Raph. He, too, looked downcast.

Giving him one of his award-winning smile, even if the contest had been held in his own room with himself as the only nominee, Mikey asked, "Wanna play a video game, or somethin'? Got a new one yesterday from Casey."

Leo was starting to shake his head when Don got off the phone. Though his purple-clad brother seemed more focused on whatever he was working on, Mike could tell from the look on his face that the past several seconds hadn't gone noticed.

"I just called April," Don started, "and she got the supplies I've been needing lately. I'll be back in about thirty minutes-" He was saying, even as he was heading for his coat, when Leo interrupted him.

"Wait!" He'd practically shouted. Having unwillingly received everyone's attention, Leo continued, in a quieter tone. "I can go get it for you. I was planning on going out for a walk anyway…"

Mikey first noticed how Leo looked away as he finished speaking.

Then he became aware of the sudden silence in the room. Not the no-one's-speaking silence. This was that kind you just felt- tension was in the air.

He knew why. Heck, he'd be surprised if _Leo_ didn't know why. As their elder brother's behavior had begun to drift back to its more reserved ways over the week, they, in turn, had become more concerned. Mikey didn't think anyone had talked to him about it yet. He'd been planning on doing it tonight, but that wasn't so much of the problem.

Usually in situations like this, it was pretty likely for Leo to go catatonic. If that were to happen up topside, especially in weather like this, _and_ at nighttime… the possibilities were disastrous. Literally, in the case of Leo's health.

Scratching his neck, Leo lifted his head a little. "I'll only be gone for an hour at the most. And I'll get the stuff at April's. You can call me if I'm gone too long."

After a small measure of time, Mikey realized he'd already given his brother the nod of approval. Soon followed Donny. Turning around, he didn't see the same demonstration of trust from Raph, who'd turned his back to them by now, examining his sais. But by doing just that, he wasn't objecting.

A brief goodbye, and then, having grabbed his coat and hat, Leo was gone.

&&&&&

_Walk first_. Leo had decided. _Just a short one, though_. He wanted to clear his head before arriving at April's.

Unfortunately, he didn't even know where he was walking _to_. The coat and hat prevented anyone from seeing him, but Leo would've preferred that to what he saw next.

He'd walked back to Logan's grave. He'd navigated himself _through_ the graveyard; the snow and the headstones, and had ended up back at Logan's grave.

His heart beat a little faster, but other than that, he was rather calm. Inside, he was screaming at himself to just continue on.

But that was the fear inside him.

The hatred inside of him wanted him to stand by for a few minutes. Look at the marker. Be sure Logan was dead.

Reading the dates on the headstones, Leo suddenly paused and looked at the date of birth one more time. "Happy birthday, Logan." He said flatly. No melancholy; no joy.

He stood by longer.

The night was cloudy, the weather cold and softly snowy. Leo should've been the only one out amongst in the cemetery. But he heard footsteps, slowly crunching in the snow.

Regretting his anger now, half-fearing darkness would soon come upon him, with Logan following, Leo turned around with the speed of the ninja he was and saw who it was.

Not Logan. A man, old and assisted by a cane. Oddly enough, he came towards Leo, turning sharply at different points.

He arrived at Logan's grave.

&&&&&

Much longer than usual! I'm so proud!

(slaps head) Not anymore! I forgot! The next chapter of Actions Unknown was due two days ago! I'm so stupid…

Well, on the bright side, I'd like to say that Suicide (Number 1) won two awards in this years Fan Fiction Competition. Taking First, in a tie, for Best Angst, and Second, also tied, for Best Story of the Year!

Yay me!

So please review! I love reviews. I can't even begin to _describe_ how much I love reviews!

…Please?


	8. And Then There Were Two

Hmph! (pouts and stomps foot) _Everyone _figured it out! How did everyone figure it out? Nearly everyone, anyways…

One of my greatest writing qualities is suspense! How am I supposed to maintain that trait when everyone figures my story out?

(starts crying) Honestly, have I become _that_ predictable?

I was thinking about changing my plans just to throw you guys off. However, I've been thinking about this part of the story since I was writing Chapter 12 of the original Suicide! It doesn't make any sense to change it now…

(sniffs) Well, since there's no point in building the suspense any longer, I'll just continue. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Do you know how many of the other writers here would come after me if I _did_ own the TMNT?

&&&&&

Arriving at the grave, the man didn't even register Leo's presence, though he hadn't even bothered to move. For the longest time, he just looked down at the marker. When he finally raised his head, there were tears in his eyes.

That was when Leo realized that the man's cane wasn't here to support him, it was here to guide him.

Indeed, the old man's light brown eyes were blank and unseeing. That's why it had taken him so long to get here. That's why he didn't run away upon finding himself only mere inches away from the green face of a giant turtle.

He was blind.

Leo would've been content with this fact, especially considering what he was, but it was at that moment that a tickle emanated in his throat, causing him to cough softly.

The sound didn't go unnoticed. The man jumped at it, turning in Leo's direction. "Hello?" He asked fearfully. "Is someone there?"

Knowing he should probably leave now, Leo was strangely drawn to answer him, no matter how bad of an idea it might turn out to be. "…Yes."

Not recognizing the voice, the man paused. "Who are you? What are you doing at my son's grave, especially at this time of night?"

_Son?_ Leo bit his lip, his feet shuffling nervously. Deep down, he had suspected that this was a relative, but he'd chosen not to acknowledge it. But now here he was, in front of a man who was oblivious to the pain he'd caused him just by breeding.

But he wasn't mad at him. The only person Leo was angry with was Logan.

And himself.

"I don't know why, I'm here, Mr. Acker. It's probably not a good idea, anyways." Leo began quietly. "But I think you should be more worried about yourself. It's kinda cold to be out so late. I hope you don't live too far away."

"I don't… and I remember the layout of this place well enough." Logan's father said cautiously; "Have- have I met you before?"

Leo shook his head, though the man couldn't see it. "No."

He seemed to think about this. Finally, the man looked back at the grave with blind eyes. Leo wondered what the picture his mind painted for him of this looked like. "I come here no matter how cold it is. Eight forty-seven on the dot." Paul Acker said. His smile was sad. "Today my son would have been twenty-four."

"I know." Leo replied, nodding to himself. _And I wouldn't be the nutcase I am today._

"Did you know my son? Logan?" He asked, unaware of how uncomfortable his late-night associate was.

Nevertheless, Leo answered truthfully. "Yes. I did."

He hesitated. "Are you-" He shook his head. "Do you _know_?"

Breathing in the cold air, Leo looked up from the grave, understanding the question. "I do."

The old man nodded. "Then you're one of the few. After… after the cause of death was determined, we decided not to release it to the press. I would've never thought he'd do something like that…" Acker trailed off, obviously upset.

When he recovered, the man continued, contemplatively. "You sound so young. How old are you?"

"I'm sixteen, sir."

"My word," he began; "you would've been but a child when he died; barely older than my grandson." He shook his head. "How on earth did you know him?"

Leo froze; turned to see the old man. When Logan had died ten years ago, he hadn't been _that_ old. If he remembered correctly, he'd only been about forty.

Time had not been kind to him. Now at approximately fifty years of age, Paul Acker looked to be sixty. He was thin, with grayish-white hair that only showed traces of its original color, brown. And clearly, he'd lost his sight within those years as well.

How could he tell him the truth?

Leo shivered and pulled his jacket a little tighter around himself. But how could he not?

"I-" Leo started, only to cut himself off. "Um, Mr. Acker… I…" Sighing and bowing his head, Leo just let it out. "I was the last person to see him alive."

That comment wiped the feeble smile off of the man's face. "My God… Where?"

He had to take in a deep breath to tell him. Leo felt like a little kid, scared and vulnerable.

He hated that feeling.

But the man deserved to know. "I, uh… I kinda saw it happen." The look on the father's face looked incredulous, unsure if he should believe this teenager before him. Leo described him. "I was in the sewers, on the catwalk by the drainage junction, looking for my brothers. Logan was wearing a black shirt and jeans. I watched him drink the rat poison. We talked… and then he jumped."

That took care of his doubt. How else could Leo have honestly know what Logan had been wearing at death? The _exact_ place he'd been?

Covering his mouth, the blind man shook his head. "He was always so strange, so morbid… but he was a good boy. Really, he was. Always taking care of his brothers; his mother, when she was still alive." Crouching down, he felt the engraving of the headstone; his lost child's name. "How could you do such a thing, Logan?" He whispered.

Not speaking, Leo waited until the man stood up. "You must hate him." Acker said, silent tears running down his face. "And, as much as I still love him, I can't honestly blame you. My word, how have you dealt with it?"

"I didn't actually remember what happened until several months ago, back in May or June." Leo slowly revealed. "Repressed memory."

The man accepted the explanation. "I'm sorry; it must be terrible." He said softly. "I hope you have family to help you cope."

Leo didn't dismiss the fact that Paul Acker had determined that his son was still a bother to him. He was as perceptive as Logan was. _Like father, like son. _"I do." Leo told him. "My brothers are here for me."

"That's good…" the man frowned suddenly, sticking his hand into one of his coat pockets. "May I ask, would your name happen to be Leo?"

Stiff as stone, Leo looked at him in disbelief. "Leonardo." He nodded. "How did you know?"

Slowly, the man pulled an envelope out of his pocket, looking at it with unseeing eyes. "When the police came to search the apartment, they found this by the door, in Logan's room. They think he must've dropped it on his way out, or something like that. After examining it, they started to search his school for the person it was addressed to… A _Leo_." He paused. "There was a Leonard in the school, but he and Logan had never met. They didn't find anyone else. The police eventually turned the letter back over to me, along with a copy of it."

He handed the envelope over to Leo, who held it like it was about to bite him, staring at his name on the old paper. _Another letter; great._

Logan's father continued. "As you've probably figured out, they did look at it, hoping to determine a few things. But it got them nowhere." He swallowed. "I've also read it, but it only confused me. I don't know why I still carry it around; I suppose I've always hoped to try and make sense of it, or find the person who could." He shook his head. "I hope you can. Take it. It's yours, anyways."

Leo shook his head to himself. He didn't want it. More so than with Splinter's letter, he feared what Logan had to say.

But he couldn't say no.

Finding his shoulder, the old man placed a hand on it. "Dear boy, you're cold." Leo didn't know how he'd felt that through his coat, but he hadn't been far from the truth. He was shivering slightly now. "Perhaps you should head home, to your brothers." Turning, with his cane in front of him, Paul Acker then left, refusing to look at him. "Good luck." He called back, before he began his sharp turns through and out of the graveyard.

Sniffing, Leo finally stuffed the letter in his own coat pocket after several minutes. That done, he stared back down at Logan's grave. "Please stop." He whispered.

He knew that the Logan in the dirt wasn't the Logan torturing him. He knew that the Logan in his head who _was_ wasn't even real. But he spoke anyway.

"Just stop."

&&&&&

With twelve five by five inch black cloths in front of him, all Donny had to do was wait for Leo to bring the rest of the mix.

Their line of work sometimes involved getting a hold of some nasty enemies. Don was currently working on something that, if needed, could knock such a person out without creating too big of a scene, be it for escape purposes, interrogation, or battles. You never know when such a thing could come in handy.

So far, he had an idea as to how to make it. Through April, he'd ordered some chemicals that would most likely contribute to the concoction, chloroform and ammonia, among other things. Of course, he'd have to test it out first.

Unfortunately, that was the hard part. To do it, he had to have a test subject. Naturally, Donny didn't believe in animal testing; he _was_ a turtle, after all. He could probably convince Mikey to do it, but he didn't dare risk it. More importantly, he didn't want any of his inventions to kill anyone. At least someone who didn't deserve it.

But he didn't have to worry about this so much. Unlike anyone else on Earth, or at least _most_ of them, Donatello had advanced alien technology on his side. With Leatherhead and Professor Honeycutt, the formula had been formed. The Professor had also developed a small container where they could test it in. The results would be shown on one of their computers, determining if the formula was too strong or too weak and so on.

Donny sighed in appreciation. It was _really_ nice to have such technology on his side. Had it fallen into any other hands, he didn't think that it would be used for such good things like quicker and more fuel-efficient transportation and saving lives, among other things.

In fact, the purple-clad turtle figured that only a few of the figures in high authority would even think to do such a thing. Most would probably argue over possession of it. If they were anything like the Triceraton Prime Leader or the General, even more would want to use it for war.

It was sad, really.

At that moment, Donny heard the door to the lair open and then close. As heavy as it was, it was impossible to make a silent entrance.

Eventually he could pick up on footsteps coming towards his lab. Leo came in, head bowed. It seemed that his walk hadn't done much to calm him; his brother was very tense.

Smoothly, carefully, Leo handed the package to his brother. "April says next time, pay the correct postage."

That comment, having come from their friend, had surely been made in a joking manner. However, Leo didn't convey it like that.

Don couldn't see April being that cold. He watched Leo for several seconds as he took off his coat and hat, shedding a few snowflakes as he did so.

It wasn't his imagination. Leo's mood was actually worse than it had been when he left. He was quieter, more depressing.

"Leo," Don began cautiously, not wanting to upset him; "are you okay?"

His elder brother looked up, nodded. "Yeah, I'm fine."

Stepping away from the table that held his latest project, Don came forward and put a hand on the blue-clad turtle's shoulder. He was chilled, but, with the snowy weather outside, that was to be expected. "Are you _sure_?"

Please don't lie to me… 

But that's exactly what he did. Unable to look at him, Leo adverted his gaze to his feet. "Yeah. Just did a little too much thinking out there." He practically whispered.

"About what?"

Leo shrugged. "A lot of things. Things that have been going on lately."

Realizing that he wasn't going to be getting any more information out of him, Don let the subject go. Giving Leo's shoulder a reassuring squeeze, he lowered his arm and patted him on the arm. "All right. Just… take it easy, okay? You've been acting kinda funny recently." He paused, his voice growing more serious by the moment. "We're worried about you."

That made Leo look up. Donny knew that Leo didn't like doing that. He considered it _his_ job to do the bulk of the worrying and especially hated it when the concern was over him.

He couldn't say anything. Nodding once more, Leo walked out of the room.

Watching him go, Don just stood there for a few seconds and sighed. Frowning, he opened up his package and began to prepare a sample.

&&&&&

Mikey felt like crying. The newest issue of Justice Force had been left with a horrible cliffhanger. It'd probably be a while before he'd find out what happened to his favorite superheroes, trapped in an underground city with their greatest foe.

"Why?" the orange-clad turtle cried out to the ceiling, "Why am I tortured so?"

Leo slowly made his way out into the room. Mikey turned to see him, comic book suddenly forgotten upon seeing the look on his brother's face. "Hey, bro." He said, trying not to be _too_ cheerful. He'd learned that in times like these, it only made Leo more unhappy. "You want something to eat?"

Looking at him, Leo slowly shook his head. "No thanks, Mikey."

"Bro," Mike reminded him, "you didn't have dinner last night. And you skipped out on lunch today, too."

"I'm not hungry."

Sighing mentally, Mikey decided not to push it, though he would tomorrow. "Well… take up a seat. You look like you need it."

Which was entirely true. Leo looked like he drained; though Mikey knew he'd never admit it. He also knew that as worn as he looked physically, he was twice as much mentally. He must've had another bad night.

It took a moment, but Leo finally complied, sitting on the opposite side of his little brother.

They sat in silence for a while. Mike didn't think Leo wanted to talk, but it had to be done. It probably would do well, however, to save a good portion of the conversation until tomorrow.

"What happened?" Mikey asked. "Back at Logan's grave. There's more to it than you're telling us, bro."

Leo tensed at the subject. "It was just… weird."

_I kinda got that much. _"Leo," Mike paused, found the right words; "I haven't seen you that scared in a long time. When I got you back here, you didn't even leave the couch for practically a day."

"Well maybe you'd be scared too if you thought that a kid who's supposed to be dead was about to pop up and laugh at you; tell you that no matter what you do, you can't escape from the darkness." Leo snapped.

That wasn't what startled Mikey though. Leo had unloaded quite a bit in those words…

He seemed to realize it too. Turning away, Leo mumbled an apology. Then, rather quickly, he got up and headed for his room.

Mikey wanted to go after him. But there had been times in his life when he'd been upset like that.

Those were times when he'd wanted to be alone.

Unfortunately, Mikey forgot that they were also times when he would've benefited from having someone there.

&&&&&

Coat tucked securely under his arm, Leo headed to his room. Once inside, he sat on his bed, stretching his legs out upon it with his shell resting against the wall. He was still a little cold, but he didn't bother to slip the lower half of his body under the covers.

The letter in the coat seemed to burn through the material of its pocket and to his skin with the intensity of the sun. Leo couldn't push it out of his mind.

Eventually, the blue-banded turtle gave into its silent calls, drawing it out and tossing the jacket to the ground, not really caring about cleanliness at the moment.

Unlike the fiery sun he'd related it to, the folds of paper did not cause his hands to burst into flames. Nevertheless, whether it was an exaggerated fear of this possibility or the thought of pure evil being contained in the envelope, Leo barely touched it; only as much as he had to.

With his life as screwed up as it was now, Leo found that with each day that had gone by recently, he was losing more and more of his grip on his life. It seemed that every corner he turned, Logan had found a new way to get under his skin, to bring him further down.

And there was nothing he could do about it.

That's why, with the little things that scared him, Leo did what he did. It was one of his main reasons for not yet opening Splinter's letter to him; Logan's now, too.

With messages hidden in envelopes, written in word, Leo wasn't forced to hear what they had to say. Be it good or bad things they had to tell, the latter most likely being the contents of Logan's, Leo had a choice.

Three months ago, after a bad argument with Raph over their dead father's parting message to Leo, he thought his temperamental brother had figured this out.

He'd told Leo that he was running away from these things, hiding once again. That it wasn't like him.

Leo knew Raph had been- _was_ right about that. This business with Logan was a big problem; since when had he ran away from a challenge?

While this was a good argument, Leo also knew that things had changed. What they'd turned into or how they'd come to be that way was still a mystery to him. Things were just different.

With a sigh, he turned slightly and his Logan's letter temporarily under his pillow.

He shook his head. _Whatever happened to the 'fearless leader'?_

Suddenly, he became aware of the fact that in that single line of thought, his room had faded away. It was _dark_.

That familiar voice came out of nowhere, answering his question. "He found something to be afraid of."

Turning around sharply, Leo faced Logan. The boy smiled. "Miss me?"

&&&&&

He'd heard part of Leo's conversation with Donny when he was walking by. From the shadows, he'd heard him brush off his talk with Mikey.

Raph had been thinking about apologizing to Leo for searching his room. However, with his elder brother's sudden decline in attitude, he figured that it'd probably be best for him to take his turn in talking with him.

There were times when Mikey was better able to get Leo to open up. Other times, Don was better more for it. But this was one of those situations that called for tough-love. That was when the job fell to Raph.

This was one of those times. And right now, the need had become so serious, Raph knew he couldn't concede.

When he entered Leo's room, however, he found that his brother didn't even acknowledge his presence. With a frown, fearing what this probably meant, he moved directly in front of the blue-clad turtle.

Suspicions confirmed; Raph looked away, glaring at the wall. Inanimate objects were one of the few things that didn't bend to his anger.

Months before, not only would Raph have been unable to understand what was happening, he would've been on the brink of panic's edge to see Leo in such a state.

Now, at least, he knew how to mange the situation. But to this day, every time he saw it happen, he was still a bit concerned. Since that time eight months ago, an episode had never gone as long as a week, never even longer than five hours.

But the fear that it could happen again never really went away. And Raph felt that that counted for all four of them.

It'd been a while since he'd seen Leo catatonic. He'd taken that as a good sign. Maybe it wasn't. When they battled the Foot, usually the longer the wait for activity, the harder and more threatening the attack was. He hoped that wasn't the case.

Sighing, making sure to avoid Leo's feet, Raph sat on the edge of the bed, calmly waiting for him to come out of it.

No matter how long it took, he wasn't going to back off. It was part of the job description.

&&&&&

(yawns) It's early. I'm tired. Sorry if this sucked.

By the way, those cloths that Donny's working on were mentioned in Chapter 2. I didn't bring them out of nowhere.

Well, I beg that you review. All are appreciated and carefully examined by _moi_ for story ideas.

So please review!


	9. One

(takes in a deep breath) Man, there's nothin' like the smell of a new chapter in the morning. Well, at the moment for me, it's the afternoon, but you know what I mean.

Before I get to carried away with this fic, I think that I need to sit down and figure out just how long it's gonna be. Part of the reason why Dead of Night is so long is because I never just stopped to decide where I was going with it.

Anyways, I'll have that up for ya next time, I swear. But shall we begin?

Disclaimer: I have yet to legally claim the ownership of our beloved TMNT. However, if I ever see it on sale at a garage sale, you better bet it'll be mine!

&&&&&

Leo's only response to Logan was to stare. He hated it when the boy would just pop up out of nowhere like this.

Cocking his head, Logan raised his eyebrows; that small grin plastered on his face. "And here I thought you _needed_ me to tell you what was going on here." He said, clearly referring to Leo's earlier thoughts throughout this past week. "Will you ever just make up your mind?"

Leo turned a little, into the darkness. "Can we just stop these stupid games?" He pleaded, angry with himself for how pathetic he sounded. "Just tell me what you're doing and _stop_."

"No can do, pal." Logan immediately responded, shoving his hands in his pockets. "I told you; the first time you left. I'm still not done with you. If you'd just listened to me then, we probably wouldn't even be having this conversation."

Glaring at him, the blue-clad turtle crossed his arms over his plastron. "I don't need your help."

"That's right." Logan said sarcastically. "I forgot. You're doing perfectly fine. That's why when you met that Purple Dragon a few weeks ago, you _let_ him hit you- twice. If I remember correctly, he was just going through his initiation rite too." The human shook his head. "Now _that's_ sad." His look turned serious. "You were doing that before. Ever thought about what else you would have done? If Raph hadn't caught you cutting your arm to ribbons that night?"

Clenching his teeth, Leo found himself to be a six-year-old again. That hadn't happened in a while. Slowly, he tried to calm himself. Eventually, he turned back to his normal self.

That done, he raised his head just a little, ignoring the presented question. "I thought I told you I didn't want you messing around with my memories." He said levelly. Logan had a tendency to delve into his past often, bringing up each and every horrible thought and haunting picture he'd ever had.

Starting with that day on the catwalk.

That morbid grin was back. "Since when do I do what you want me to? Darkness doesn't have to listen to anybody but light, Leo, and you don't have enough of that to overpower it."

The comment made Leo uneasy. He didn't like to think of himself as a match for Logan's description.

But he could never stop wondering if he was.

"So," Logan said, bending back a little and performing the levitation trick once more; "how'd you like dear ol' dad?"

Refusing to look at him, Leo spoke. "He loved you- the real Logan." He corrected himself. "Nice guy." He paused. "Nothing like you." He hissed.

"Makes ya wonder if life was really so bad for me, huh?" Logan asked. "I mean, why did I try so hard to hurt myself when I had a family that loved me."

He looked at Leo with those eyes that pierced through souls as easily as a stick went through water. The turtle didn't have to see them to feel them on him. "Remind you of anyone?" Logan asked.

Swallowing reflexively, Leo tried not to think of how he'd almost killed himself right in front of his brothers that night eight months ago. Slowly, he turned his head back, watching the boy without making eye contact. "How are you doing it?" Leo asked, fearing the similarities between himself and Logan. "Your grave; your dad; how can you do that?"

Sighing, Logan looked up, mouth in a tight straight line. "You're always one to avoid the question…" After a moment, he looked back at Leo. "If you must know, I have absolutely nothing to do with that. Those were all just random incidents that happened to fit nicely in this jigsaw puzzle that's become your life." He smiled again. "However, I'm getting the feeling that it'll be a while before you can make sense of the picture."

For a long time, they didn't say anything else. Leo spent most of that period trying to get out of his catatonic prison, but was unable to. He was just so tired of this…

"I told ya, Leo." Logan started. "You're not getting off easy this time. We're doing things my way."

Leo snapped his head around to him. "Your way sucks." He said. "For the love of God, Logan, just leave me alone!"

Now it was Logan who looked angry, though he didn't loose his cool. "No, Leonardo. _You_ are the one who won't leave _me_ alone." The dead teenager said sharply, moving closer to Leo and commanding his attention. "You just don't get it, do you?" He spread his arms out. "_This_ is the dark side of your mind." He brought one arm back to himself, giving Leo the lecture from their first day. "_I_ am the darkness within you."

His eyes widened. Leo didn't like where this was going. He looked away, afraid of what he'd felt all along and what was about to be proven. "Shut up…"

Logan didn't. "You only have one mind, Leo. One messed up mind, darkness included." He grabbed Leo's chin firmly and turned his face back up to see him. "_You're_ the one who's doing this to yourself. _You_. All I am is the tool that drives the message in." Logan's eyes were hard. "The real Logan may have been a _lot_ like you, but you and _me_? We're one and the same."

&&&&&

The episode came to be an hour in length. Raph sighed resting his shell against the other wall that the bed was pushed up against. He probably could've been doing something else while waiting for Leo to come out of it, but he chose to sit and wait, reminding himself that this issue needed to be resolved sooner, rather than later.

Frowning, his eyes found Leo's coat for the seventh time tonight on the floor. Now, Raph had never been one to care about orderliness; besides Mikey's, his room was the messiest. However, the jacket's presence, the way it had just been tossed aside, just didn't seem to fit _this_ room- Leo's room.

His elder brother, according to Leo's perspective, had one purpose and one goal. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn't get him out of that point of view completely. The blue-clad turtle did now realize that there was more to his life, but all of those things always took a backseat when it came to his underlying beliefs.

His purpose was to protect his brothers. His goal was perfection, an objective that continued to slip from his grasp.

Sometimes, Raphael wondered if Leo had ever considered the idea, which everyone else knew to be a solid _fact_, that that goal was unreachable.

Raph's attention was brought away from the floor to his brother. Leo had suddenly sat up straighter, breathing hard, as if he'd just been awakened from a terrifying nightmare.

Unfortunately, he knew that that analogy was very likely a good possibility.

Leo, who hadn't yet noticed his presence, had his head bowed, trying to calm himself. Raph heard him choke out something that sounded almost like a sob; the noise never came again.

When he was breathing easier, Raph decided to speak. "Ya left your jacket on the floor." He said softly, pointing out the irregularity of the room's cleanliness, derived from his brother's strive for perfection.

Looking up suddenly, Leo looked away just as quick, turning his gaze to the coat. He nodded, but didn't look surprised to find it there.

"Was it bad?" Raph asked, not fully understanding his own question.

"Was what bad?" Leo whispered, still not looking at him.

Turning his head up to the ceiling, Raph sighed in frustration. "You know what I mean, bro." He paused. "Sometimes, I think there's a lot more to this catatonia business than you're tellin'."

When Leo didn't answer, Raph looked back at him, finding his brother's eyes for a mere second before they quickly flickered away.

But that second was all he'd needed. He'd seen what they held.

"Shit." Raph said under his breath, sitting up now, leaning in closer to Leo. "There is somethin' you ain't sayin', isn't there?"

Leo's response was to get up off the bed and make his way to the door, though he stopped before he made it halfway through the room, looking around it, seemingly just now recognizing it as his own.

He moved back to his bed, sitting in the same spot he'd left, and drew his knees up to his plastron. "What're you doing in here anyways, Raph?"

Deciding not to jump into an argument _that_ quickly, Raph answered him. "I came up here to talk to ya. Don and Mike aren't the only ones who think you've been actin' weird lately."

"I don't wanna talk-"

"Well you're gonna." Raph interrupted abruptly. He lowered his voice a little. "And you can start with what really happens-" he pulled the name out of memory; Mikey had told it to him once; "what happens in the dark side."

Leo rested his forehead on his knees and let out a long breath. "No." He moaned, shaking his head. "Not that. Not right now."

Remembering what his face had looked like just a few moments ago, how visibly upset he'd been. Nodding, Raph bit back his anger. "'Kay." He pulled his own legs onto the bed. "So let's start with Logan's grave."

Leo cringed at the name, but raised his head a little. "I can't believe I forgot." He said softly. "The name of the cemetery was in the paper- that article Don gave me."

He'd already had this conversation once with Donatello. "Hope Memorial, I know. Leo, it's not like that was at the front of your mind at the time."

"But I should've remembered."

_Heck, we all probably should've_. Raph thought. They all had read the clipping at least five times.

He changed the subject. "So, what else was it? Besides the grave?"

Confused, Leo looked at him for a second. Raph explained. "I heard what ya said to Mikey." He admitted. "About the popping out of the grave and the darkness. Is that what you were thinking at the time?"

His blue-banded brother nodded sullenly.

Not so long ago, Raph would've _loved_ to have a chance at Leo's leadership, to prove that he could do it just as well, if not better. But now, though he'd yet to even have it, Raph knew he wouldn't like it so much after all. Right now, he had to do something that his brother here did a lot with the rest of him: fishing for answers.

He _hated_ having to do this. Most of the time, the fish just wouldn't bite.

Throwing the line back out into the vast and mysterious ocean that was his brother, Raph asked another question. "So what did you mean by that?"

"That he wasn't dead after all…" Leo said, confusedly.

"No, not that." Raph scratched his chin for a moment before continuing. "The 'escaping from the darkness' part."

Looking rather uncomfortable again, Leo shrugged, then bit his lip. Finally, he gave in. "It's deep inside me, ya know?" He said quietly. "The darkness. It's what's bad in me, what makes me- what makes me _like_ Logan." He let out a short and shaky breath. "And I don't wanna _be_ like him."

Raph tried to keep his temper in check. "You _aren't_ like him." Raph hissed. "God, how many times have I told you that?"

"But what if you were wrong?" Leo suddenly snapped, looking up at him. "You didn't know him, Raph! You never saw him. I did; I know what he was like."

"Yeah, you met him for, what? Twenty minutes? That ain't enough time to figure somebody out, bro. Not to the extent that you can match their _entire_ personality to your own."

Leo looked like he wanted to believe that answer, but just couldn't do it. He adverted his gaze once more. "You just don't get it."

Feeling his anger rise, Raph fought to keep it down. "Yeah, well maybe I _would_, if you'd say something every once in a while."

"I do!"

The red-clad ninja knew this. Leo had been talking to them when he was haunted from catatonic attacks for months now.

But Raph felt that this was an entirely different matter. "But you haven't been saying the _right_ things, Leo. You haven't told anyone what's really going on in that head of yours."

"Like you tell anyone what's going on in _yours_?"

Well, that _was_ a good point. But there was a difference here.

Only Raph should've kept that to himself.

Unable to hold his frustration back any longer, Raph lashed out. "But I ain't the nutcase here, Leo!"

His brother turned his head around to him, shocked. He said nothing.

Raph immediately tried to apologize. "Bro, I didn't mean that."

"Yes you did." Leo said levelly, a bite of anger to his voice. "You mean _everything_ you say."

That night, the night Leo had remembered what had happened to him as a child, as he held a sai to his wrist, threatening to kill himself, he'd said that very same thing.

"No I don't." Raph tried to tell him calmly. "You know me, bro. I'm a hothead; I say stupid things without thinking."

"But you always mean it!" Leo shot back. He looked like he was about to break down any second. _What a good idea this turned out to be…_

Leo went on. "I don't want to be like this, Raph." He said softly. "It's…" he looked away, embarrassed; "It scares me."

Deep down, Raph had known that his 'fearless leader' wasn't really all that fearless. But that knowledge nevertheless had never been admitted by his brother.

It was a whole different story when it was.

"I know you don't, bro." Raph said, attempting to soothe his brother's uneasy thoughts. "And none of us thinks it's your fault." He added, addressing a matter that he knew was on Leo's mind. Hesitantly, he wrapped his left arm around his brother's shoulder. "And you aren't a nutcase, either." He smiled. "That's my position, remember?"

Leo chuckled once at that, softly.

Figuring that he'd probably done enough damage for the night, Raph decided to bring this conversation to a close. But they _were_ going to continue this tomorrow. "Just, tell us what's happening, okay? We know you're upset, so tell us what's wrong." Seeing the look on Leo's face, he added, "You don't have to right now. But do it soon. No one can help ya if they don't know what they're dealing with."

Nodding, Leo spoke. "One of the first rules of going into a fighting. Know what you're going up against."

Raph too nodded. "That's right." When neither of them said anything else, he got up, heading for the door. "We can talk about this later, I guess." He put his hand above the light switch. "Night, bro."

Leo's eyes held fast on Raph's fingers. Curiously, he moved them away. When he did, Leo looked back up at him. He nodded. "All right. Night."

&&&&&

Having taken a break from whatever he was working on, Donny sat in the armchair, head resting on his hand, looking rather bored. Or maybe he was just thinking about something. While there was probably a difference between those two things for his purple-banded brother, they often meant the same thing to him.

Playing solitaire, Michelangelo watched his late night fix of horror movie, a bowl of popcorn sitting faithfully by his side. Rubbing the butter off his fingers and onto the couch, the orange-clad turtle noticed Raphael coming downstairs.

Sighing, the temperamental ninja took a seat next to him. Without saying anything, Mike passed the tub of popcorn to him. Making an undeterminable sound, Raph took it, tossing a few of the greasy kernels into his mouth.

"You get shot down, too?" The youngest of the three asked.

Putting the popcorn down in between them, Raph nodded. "Yeah, only I pulled the trigger."

Don lifted his head, placing his arm back down on the armrest. "Dare I ask what happened?"

Raph snorted. "No, ya don't." he said sadly.

"That bad, huh?" Mikey said softly, having determined that his brother hadn't gotten any farther with reaching Leo than the rest of them.

Nodding, Raph grabbed another fistful of popcorn, eyes not really focused on the movie.

Popping a few joints in his neck, Donny continued. "Did you get anything out of him at all?"

"Nope. Nothin' more than you, anyways."

They sat there in silence for a while. Finally, with a sigh, Mikey picked up the remote and clicked the TV off. He'd lost his interest in it a while back, having by now forgotten what the flick even was. "What are we gonna do about this?"

Leaning forward, Donny flexed his fingers. "Keep on talking to him. There's nothing we can do for Leo until we know what's wrong."

Raph nodded. "That's exactly what I told _him_."

Mikey raised an eye ridge. "So he actually admitted that something's bothering him?"

His brother didn't answer right away. He pulled his knee up and rested his left arm on it. "He said it scares him. Ya know, wherever he goes when he goes catatonic."

Frowning, Mikey rubbed the back of his neck. "I thought _I_ was the one who was scared of the dark." He said, referring to the darkness that Leo would speak of on occasions.

Biting his lip, Donny looked up at them. "I don't really think that that's exactly what's upsetting him."

"So what is it?" Mikey asked.

"Earlier today," his purple-banded brother explained, "Leo was telling me about what he was thinking when he saw Logan's grave. He said that he imagined him coming up out of his grave to hunt him- that he wants him to suffer."

Mikey nodded. "Yeah, he just told me something like that a little bit ago! Except he said something about Logan saying that no matter what he did, he couldn't escape from the darkness."

Looking at them, Raph narrowed his eyes. "Somethin' about that don't sound right."

Donatello nodded. "Both times, he refers to Logan in the present tense. With Mikey, it might make a little more sense; Leo just told him the zombie part. But with me, with the suffering part, he said _wants_, like Logan's still alive."

Sighing again, Mikey frowned. "So basically, all we know is that Leo's scared of him still."

Raph snorted. "Which is what we've known all along. Man, we sure haven't moved that far out of square one." Putting his leg back down, he leaned forward, rubbing his temples. "All this crap is givin' me a headache."

Standing up, Donny nodded. "We can talk to him again tomorrow." He paused. "We need to get this solved soon, guys. I mean, we all have seen how Leo's starting to act like he did before; if he keeps it up, he's gonna end up hurting himself again."

Nodding, Mikey stood up, putting a hand on Donny's shoulder. "We know, bro."

Shooting up out of his seat suddenly, Raph shook his head. "I ain't lettin' that happen again."

"None of us are, Raph." Mikey said sympathetically. He bit back the rest of his comment, fearing that if he said it, it would become the truth of the situation.

Moving away from him, Donny started to head over to his lab. He turned his head back. "We'll figure out something."

Mikey nodded. "Yeah… g'night, bro."

"Night."

Shrugging his own goodnight, Raph waved to Mikey and headed to his room. Grabbing the popcorn to snack on, Mikey eventually headed to his own room as well, unable to finish his unsaid thought.

_We might not let it happen, but it could, no matter what we do._

&&&&&

Another chapter down! (sighs happily) How did we get so far so soon? Not that I'm complaining!

Well, if you'd be so kind, I ask that you drop in a review! Thanks for reading!


	10. Spirits of the Dead

Hello, peoples! I have returned… _but_, I am different than the last time we spoke- er, well, what could we call it? I write, you read… Well, you get the picture.

Anyways, I have changed since our last encounter. For as of today, I am sixteen! Cool, huh? And my baby sister nearing her first year as well now.

But I shall not dwindle on with this; I have a chapter to write, after all. Oh! I almost forgot. Remember how last time I said I have the total number of chapters awaiting you this time? I'm proud to tell you that, like it's predecessor, this story will have fourteen installments- only four more to go after this!

So enjoy!

Disclaimer: Much to my disappointment, I have yet to receive a notice in my mailbox that entitles me as the new owner of the TMNT.

Disclaimer 2: _Spirits of the Dead_ is the work of Edgar Allan Poe, not me.

&&&&&

Never in his life had Leo felt so agitated. He couldn't sit on the bed anymore, so, after Raph had left, he'd gotten to his feet and paced the floor.

Finally putting a halt to this task, Leo stopped at a wall and gently placed his head against it, closing his eyes and letting the slight chill of the bricks ease into his forehead. With all of this sudden anxiety, he felt very hot right now.

After a few minutes, he sighed, turning around and sitting down on the floor, feeling cooler. Logan's parting comment could not evaporate so easily, however.

_We're not the same. _Leo kept on telling himself. _Raph says I'm not even like him, so how can we be the same?_

But Leo knew how. Even in his distressed mental state, logic still prevailed. Since the real Logan _was_ dead, after all, the Logan in Leo's head could be nothing more but his own creation.

For a split second, he was surrounded by darkness once more. Logan grinned right in front of him. "Bingo."

Immediately, he was back in his room. But the abruptness of that episode, its beginning as well as its end, was enough to rattle the blue-clad turtle, especially since he had yet to experience anything like it.

Folding his legs into the lotus position, Leo tired to calm down. It too quite a while, but eventually, his breathing returned to its normal pace.

Still, his mind remained restless.

Getting back up, the teenager glanced at his alarm clock. It was nearing two; Leo hadn't realized how long he'd been up at this.

Frowning, he walked back over to his bed, bending down to the floor to retrieve his discarded coat. After moving over to his bookshelf, he placed it on a little hook that was placed on the other side of the shelf. That done, his eyes lingered back to his books, quickly locating his current reading material laying on one shelf horizontally in front of the others, which were neatly arranged; his own personal library.

The book brought a little smile to his face. Apparently, after he left, one of his brothers had been kind enough to return the book to his room, saving him a trip downstairs to the place he'd originally left it.

In hopes that some of Poe's verse would settle him down a bit, Leo grabbed the book and sat down on his bed, turning to the page where he'd left off.

His reading went over well for a good thirty minutes. This section of the collected works had been made by Edgar Allan Poe while he was still in his youth. Though the man's works had undoubtedly only flourished as his years went by, these pieces were still _very_ good.

And then he came to _Spirits of the Dead_.

_Thy soul shall find itself alone_

'_Mid dark thoughts of the gray tombstone-_

_Not one, of all the crowd, to pry_

_Into thine hour of secrecy._

Leo heart nearly stopped its duty of keeping him alive in that first stanza. Immediately, an image of Logan's grave popped into his head, as real as it had been when he'd last saw it, just hours ago. Like before, this figment derived from his catatonia appeared and left him in such a short burst that it sent shivers down his spine.

But he couldn't stop reading.

_Be silent in that solitude_

_Which is not loneliness, for then_

_The spirits of the dead who stood_

_In life before thee are again_

_In death around thee, and their will_

_Shall overshadow thee: be still._

Leo did just as the last line commanded, though not out of obedience to it. Again, it had struck a chord, delivering another picture to mind- of Logan this time. A spirit of the dead, before him again.

_The night, tho' clear, shall frown,_

_And the stars shall not look down_

_From their high thrones in the Heaven_

_With light like Hope to mortals given;_

_But their red orbs, without beam,_

_To thy weariness shall seem_

Hopelessness. Oh yes, Leo had been feeling that quite a bit lately. And the fear that come with it was growing stronger…

_As a burning and a fever_

_Which would cling to thee forever._

_Now are thoughts that shalt not banish-_

_Now are visions ne'er to vanish;_

_From thy spirit shall they pass_

_No more, like dew-drops from the grass._

Another flash of darkness. Logan mouth was grim. "Do you hear that, Leo? Forever. Because _you_ seem to want it that way."

The blue-banded turtle shuddered. He couldn't get rid of these thoughts, these mental pictures. But why?

_The breeze- the breath of God- is still,_

_And the mist upon the hill_

_Shadowy- shadowy- yet unbroken,_

_Is a symbol and a token, -_

_How it hangs upon the trees,_

_A mystery of mysteries!_

With the conclusion of the poem, Leo was finally able to release it from his hand, hurling it across the room. His breathing was once more heavy; his hands were shaking.

The shadows of his mind- unbroken. And without an explanation. This was scaring him.

"I don't want it like this." He mumbled.

Darkness. "Yes you do." Logan said. Leo shook his head. "What's wrong? Am I not the only one anymore to tell you something you don't wanna hear?"

Back to his room. Leo sniffed and lay down, pulling the blankets above his head like a child seeking cover from the bogeyman of their nightmares. "Go away…"

For a while, he was safe. But then, Logan jumped in again. In the darkness, he whispered in his ear. "Never…"

Not knowing how long exactly time went by, Leo spent what seemed to be an eternity in and out of his catatonic hell. Mostly, Logan made him see bursts of that day ten years ago, the blood dripping from his nose, or the body in the water; the grave and that feared zombie that hadn't, until now, really made an appearance.

But other times he'd talk to him. "What're you afraid of, Leo?" When he wouldn't answer, instead whimpering, trying to get away from these thoughts, Logan continued. "No pain, no gain, remember?"

Getting up, Leo paced his room again, placing his hands over his head and squeezing his eyes shut. "Stop-"

"Can't." Logan said, coming back. "Not 'til you realize what's wrong."

"The only thing that's wrong with me is you. Go away."

"Once again," the boy said, shaking his head; "you're speaking from the wrong place. Jeez, you _still_ don't know what you want."

When his room appeared, Leo slid down the wall, rocking slightly. "Yes I do. I want you gone."

The null darkness, the whisper in the ear. "Then why am I still here?"

More pictures, more flashes. Leo couldn't think. Dry sobs slowly racked his body. With great difficulty, he got back up.

He had to make it stop.

Slowly, the ninja realized he'd forgotten where he'd last put his katanas, not remembering that they were still on his back. Due to the catatonic flashes, his progress was slow.

At the end of the stairs, Logan was speaking again. "Don't do it."

He came back to reality to find his face against the hard floor. Pushing himself up, he clambered around in the darkness, trying to find the dojo. "Shut up…" He whispered.

"Are you always gonna run from your problems?" Logan asked him. "Are you really such a coward?"

"Shut up." He said again. Finding himself at the door to Donatello's lab, Leo pushed it open. He suddenly couldn't recall which way the dojo was…

Unfocused, Leo entered, the dim light hurting his eyes. He felt along the counters, knocking over a few bottles and other items, but otherwise found nothing. Leo didn't even really know what he was looking for. But he had to keep himself busy.

Throwing the drawers open, Leo rummaged through them, finding magazines and newspapers, wires and microchips. And then in the third drawer, which contained Don's medical supplies, he found a scalpel.

The darkness was back. A flash of Logan's dead body. Wet, and with blood flowing from his nose and head, where he'd hit the wall on his fall into the drainage junction, he spoke to him. "Do you really want to end up like this?"

"_Shut up_!" Leo hissed. Scared to death, he rested the scalpel on his wrist; the only thought occupying his mind was to make this stop.

Before it could sink into his flesh and split his precious vein, however, someone leaped at him from behind.

&&&&&

Through snippets of conversation he'd heard topside, he'd come to learn of workaholics at a young age; the people of today who ate and slept at their place of work more often than at their real homes. And though he wasn't nearly that bad, Donny _could _relate to the sleeping at the workroom part. Forty percent of the time, he'd wake up in his lab, accompanied by a _very _sore back.

This was one of those times. And while he usually disliked the habit when he awoke the next day, for once, he was grateful for it.

Donatello had been sleeping over some notes, his back and legs making an uncomfortable right angle, when he'd heard the sound of something hitting the ground. Make that several somethings, a few of which shattered upon impact.

Confused and groggy, the purple-clad turtle lifted his head to find Leo in the room, going through some of the things that had been arranged on the counter. His hands were shaking badly.

Trying to figure out what exactly was going on, Don watched him as he went through the drawers. At the third one, Leo pulled out a scalpel.

Heart nearly leaping out of his chest, Donny shot up from his chair, about to yell something to his brother, when Leo froze. After seeing this several times in the past eight months, Don immediately recognized it as a catatonic episode. Sighing in relief, he figured this would give him time to get the blade away from Leo before he could hurt himself.

He thought wrong.

By the time the turtle was around the table, Leo was back to the real world. "_Shut up_!" He heard him say lowly. And then he put the scalpel to his wrist.

Wasting no time, Don rushed at him, making sure that when he hit him, it wouldn't cause the knife to sink into his skin. Leo landed on his side, watching the blade spin out of reach.

Knee keeping him pinned to the ground, gripping his shoulder tightly; Donny made his presence known. "What are you doing?" He shouted at him.

Leo turned his head up to him. Instantly, he knew that the situation was worse than he'd realized from the look in his blue-clad brother's eyes. He looked terrified and was hyperventilating. "I can't make him stop…" He whispered. Closing his eyes, Leo sobbed without tears.

Frowning, Don spoke to him a little more gently this time. "Who, Leo? Who are you talking about?"

For a while, Leo didn't answer him. But finally, the eldest of the turtles explained. "Logan…" He opened his eyes. "He won't leave me alone. I just wanna make him leave me alone."

_Oh God…_ He'd known that there was something odd about Leo's behavior lately. He just hadn't realized how bad it was.

"Leo," Donny said, "how long has this been happening?" When Leo didn't respond, he asked him again. "C'mon, bro. I need you to tell me what's going on."

Whimpering, Leo finally gave out the information he'd obviously been concealing for so long. "Since the beginning… every time." Cringing, the ninja put his hands over his head. "Please make him go away. I don't want to listen to him anymore."

After a few more attempts, Don figured out he wasn't going to get anything else out of Leo while he was like this. All his big brother would do, in between two short, yet apparently frightening, catatonic episodes was ramble off pleas, to him as well as Logan, to make the dead boy leave him alone.

His next objective became to calm Leo down. On the verge of panic himself, Don scanned the floor, finding the bottles that had fallen to it during Leo's search. Leaning over, he grabbed one of the ones that hadn't broken and read the label. Recognizing it as one of the safer ones, he grabbed one of the square cloths that had also fallen and poured some of the liquid onto it, being careful not to breathe any of it in.

Placing one hand behind Leo's head, he brought the cloth below Leo's beak, he spoke softly. "Okay, bro. Here, I want you to breathe in. Can you do that for me?"

Whether he'd heard him or not, Leo did so. Within thirty or so seconds, he was unconscious, his breathing returning to normal not to long afterwards. Limp, Donny gently eased Leo's head down and got off of him.

Once he was sure Leo was all right and not going anywhere, Don let out a long breath and held his head in his hands. _This is not good…_

&&&&&

Raphael was stirred violently out of sleep by one of his brother's shaking his arm. Groaning, he paid the person no mind and turned on his side. The next thing he knew, he'd briefly felt two hands under his body through his hammock and was then on the ground.

Growling, the red-clad turtle sat up, ready to pound the crap out of whoever else was in the room. However, when he turned to see who it was, he was halted in his thoughts by Donny, who was a little paler than his regular olive-green.

Raph looked at him, sensing the seriousness of this unknown matter. "What's wrong?"

Sighing, Don looked at him for a few seconds before coming out with it. "Leo just tried to kill himself again."

"What!" Raph shouted, jumping to his feet. "When?"

"About ten minutes ago." Donny explained, following his brother as he left the room. "He's in my lab; don't worry, he's all right. I gave him an anesthetic to make him sleep."

Slowing down a little, Raph turned around to him at the top of the stairs. "Why the hell was he trying to do this again?"

Shrugging slightly, Don sounded exasperated. "Raph, I don't even think he completely knew what he was doing. All he'd say was that he wanted him to go away-"

Realizing he'd been left out of the loop on something, Raph looked at him, confused. "Who're ya talkin' about?"

"That's the other thing." Don said. "I know what's been bothering him now, though it must've just now gotten to be far too much for him to handle." Starting off towards Mikey's room, Don told him. "There's more to his catatonia than the dark side. When he's there, Logan is too."

Suddenly recalling how just a few hours ago, he'd come to understand that there had been something that Leo had been hiding about his attacks, Raph still couldn't believe that this was what it was.

Catching up to his brother, Raph stopped in front of him. "You mean he's made some sort of evil imaginary friend?"

Don nodded, opening Mikey's door. "Exactly. And from what I got, they really aren't getting along."

In their youngest brother's room, upon resisting to wake up, Mikey got the same treatment from Donny that Raph had, being dragged out of bed.

He took the news harder than the rest of them though. Once he knew where Leo was, he was down the stairs in a heartbeat, checking on him. Raph was in the room only seconds after him.

Despite Don's assurances that Leo hadn't damaged himself, Mikey checked both of their brother's wrists, making sure he hadn't gotten the smallest scratch. "What do we do when he wakes up?"

Sitting down beside him, Don looked over Leo as well. "It depends on what his mental state is like. If he's as distressed as he was earlier, we're gonna have to be patient. But if he's calm, we need to figure out exactly what he hasn't been telling us. And then we're going to do everything we need to do to help him."

Raph shook his head. "When I talked to him, he was fine. I mean, he looked a little upset, but he was okay. Did he just snap?"

"I don't think so," Don said, "but we can't be sure. I'm going to check his room." Nodding, Raph followed him, as did Mikey, eventually.

Leo's room was a mess. Not in a lazy-teenager sense, but you could definitely see something had gone on up here. The bed sheets weren't just wrinkled; they were mostly off the bed.

And against one wall, Leo's book lay facedown and open. When Raph picked it up, many of the pages were bent, and the spine was dented in one spot where it had hit.

Now, Raph wasn't that big on books, but he knew the unspoken law of the neat and orderly literature fans; you did _not_, under any circumstances, harm a book. Especially like this.

It seemed like Leo had read something he didn't quite like.

After flipping through the bent pages, hoping that they would reveal the poem or story that had gotten under Leo's skin, Raph thought he'd found the one. _Spirits of the Dead_ touched on a just a few sensitive spots; there were probably even more that his brother had found.

They searched the rest of the lair, in case there had been other places where Leo had had his problems, checking on Leo every so often. The search took about two hours, and they hadn't found anything else.

And then they went back into the lab. Breath caught momentarily in his throat, Raph was reminded of that day eight months ago.

Leo was gone.

&&&&&

(claps) Suspense! Isn't it lovely? (runs from sharp, pointy objects that are hurled towards her) Please don't kill me! I'm too young to die!

Well, despite the fact that I left you with a horrid cliffy, I'd appreciate a whole bunch of reviews! Seriously, it'd really cheer me up. While my family I don't celebrate birthdays, I _am_ kinda upset that my dad is down at Disneyland right now with my stepmom and three of my other siblings. Who cares about school anyways…

So please review!


	11. Just Like Me

Sorry it took so long to get this chapter up, my friends. Spring Break made it virtually impossible to get to a computer, and I was working on Pulse, as well.

Sooo… now we're here! Read on and enjoy!

Disclaimer: Despite many letters to Peter Laird and Kevin Eastman, asking them to let me join in on the co-ownership of the TMNT, I have seen no response declaring me as such.

&&&&&

A little dazed, Leo ran in darkened alleys above his home in the sewers, not fully understanding what he was doing, just that he needed to get away. The chill in the air was seeping into his skin; his feet were growing numb. He hadn't even remembered to bring a jacket.

Breathing heavily, he stopped himself just before running into a wall. Hands pressed firmly against it, he bowed his head and tried to catch his breath. Shaking, Leo lowered himself to the ground, trying to sort things out.

_Logan_. His breathing started to slow to normal. _That's why…_ he thought, remembering the teenager and their latest _discussion_ of recent.

Coughing, he wrapped his arms around his chest, rubbing them to bring in warmth. Why couldn't he just be left alone? Why couldn't he just live a normal life?

Ebony filled his vision. The blue-clad turtle shuddered, knowing what this meant. Logan sat down beside him, grinning morbidly.

Besides this look on his face, he did _not_ look happy. "Since when is a talking, mutated turtle considered normal?"

Glaring at him, Leo refused to answer.

"You've made yourself a hypocrite, ya know?" when Leo's stare turned into one of confusion, Logan went on. "That night, nine months ago, when Raph caught you slicing open your arm, you were thinking of the difference between spiritual and physical suicide." He paused, brown orbs digging into him in the way that only his could. "You said the latter was an act of cowardice."

Leo looked away. He recalled this thought; remembered telling Raph he could _never_ bring himself to take his own life, for the fear of what would become of his brothers once he was gone.

The boy continued. "You and the real Logan, you both committed that spiritual suicide. Only in your case, your family has slowly been able to bring you back to life, but now you're hanging by a thread between those two extremes." He leaned forward. "I can help you. I can help you back all the way, but if you make the same mistake that Logan made by taking the path of physical death, there's no way you'll survive. No turning back."

Slightly warming up to these words, Leo nevertheless felt himself clinging to his original thoughts, fearing what this healing may have in store for him. He shook his head. "I can't…" he whispered.

Logan remained silent, watching him. Finally he sighed. "There's still time. I'll let you think about it." He said softly, standing up. "Don't fear the darkness, Leo. If you were to turn the light on all at once, you wouldn't be able to see a thing."

Trying to make sense of the metaphor, he sniffed and curled up in a ball as Logan left him and the memory began to play out again.

&&&&&

Stirred gently out of his sleep, the four-year-old child turned over and opened his eyes to see his father standing over him.

The young man smiled. "Hey, kiddo." He whispered. "Time to wake up. You're goin' with dad to work today remember?"

Yawning, the boy nodded, holding his arms out to be held. His father obliged, lifting him up into his arms and taking him to the kitchen, where he sat him down on a chair, cursing as he returned to the room to retrieve his son's forgotten clothes.

A woman was at the stove, her hair a golden halo around her head. She turned and smiled warmly at him. "Hey, baby. Eggs?"

Nodding, he watched as she fixed a plate for him, patting her growing belly as she walked over to him.

Setting the plate down, she tousled his thick, brown hair. Though the child had gotten her honey-colored eyes and spread of freckles across his nose, it was easy to tell he was the spawn of his father.

"You excited?" she asked him, going back to the stove.

"Uh-huh." He said enthusiastically. "I gets to goes with daddy to work! We're gonna have big fun!"

Smiling at her little boy's joy, she went back to making breakfast, rubbing her stomach once more. Baby number three would be here soon…

Taking a big drink of milk, her oldest set his cup back down. "Where's Johnny?"

"He's sleeping in his playpen, sweetheart. It's still pretty early." She paused, hearing her husband's cell phone ring. Even at six in the morning, that wasn't unusual. Annoying, but not unusual.

Apparently having accepted the explanation, the small boy got off of his chair and trailed into the living room, socks drooping off his feet and stumbling him. He paused by his little brother's playpen, standing on his tiptoes to look over the edge, watching him sleep peacefully. "Hi, Johnny." He whispered, trying not to wake him. "I has to go with daddy today, so you gots to be a good by for mama."

Having gone after him, in hopes of telling him to go back to his breakfast, which he, like so many toddlers, would leave unfinished only to eat a whole bunch of junk food later, she paused, watching him speak. He was very protective over his little brother, watching out for him always and doing everything to make sure he was all right.

Her joy was soon disturbed, however, by the muffled curses that were coming from his rooms. Sighing exasperatedly, the pregnant woman left her post to see what was wrong.

The little boy watched her leave before turning back to his two-year-old brother. He was hungry, but he wanted to make sure that his sibling was okay first. When the baby whimpered, the eldest crouched down, wriggling his hands through the holes of the playpen to reach the blanket and pull it over him.

In the distance, he could hear his parents. Mommy sounded concerned. "Who was that, baby?"

Daddy didn't sound happy. "Henry. An important shipment hasn't come in yet, and our boss called a meeting over the Thompson Job. Apparently, someone wasn't very happy with our work."

"Oh. I'm sorry, baby. I know you worked hard on that."

A snort. "Yeah. A lot of good that did." He could hear him growl as footsteps started to come closer; they were in the kitchen now. "I have to go."

Now mama didn't sound happy. "And? What about your son?"

"Janet, I can't take him with me today, all right? We didn't have much to do today, so I thought he could come along, but I can't have him running around the office with all the work that needs to be done."

The four-year-old frowned, looking back at his sleeping brother. Looks like he'd be staying home, after all.

"Hey," He heard his mother yell, "you're not doing this to him again. You missed his play at the preschool last month, and practically every bit of his life this past year. He's been looking forward to this all week-"

"Babe, he's gonna get in the way; he won't have any fun-"

"You really don't know him, do you?" There was silence for a moment. "Your son isn't like most kids, baby. He listens; he's good. Heck, he'll just be happy if you _look_ at him!"

"Janet," daddy began, voice sounding funny; "I told you, I-"

"I don't care." The woman snapped. "You are taking him today. He deserves a little attention from you; this is a very critical age for him. You have another son too, Scott, and a baby on the way. Are you just going to ignore them for their entire lives?"

From there on out, the little one couldn't here what his parents had to say. He heard some 'I'm sorry's from his father, but then a door shut, which meant mommy and daddy were having a 'talk' in their room.

The noise woke baby Johnny up. He started to cry. Putting his hand back through the holes in the playpen, the child stroked his cheek. Little Johnny looked up at him. "Brubba?" he said.

His brother nodded. "It's okays, Johnny. Go backs to sleep."

Eventually, once the two-year-old eased back into slumber, the child walked over to the table, where his clothes were sitting. With small difficulty, he got out of his pajamas and dressed himself, saving his mother the trouble. Her tummy was big now, so she couldn't always reach down to dress him anymore.

He was surprised to see his daddy in the kitchen all of a sudden, his mom coming in as well. Looking at him surprised, the man asked, "Who got you dressed?"

His wife answered for him. "He dresses himself now, dear. I told you that two months ago." She explained, walking back to the stove and stirring the eggs around.

Looking rather embarrassed, daddy walked over to him. "Oh… well." He smiled. "All right, then. C'mon, kiddo. Let's get your shoes on. We gotta go."

"I gets to go with you?"

The smile disappeared. "Yeah. Hey, did you hear mommy and me just now." When he nodded, his father looked sad. "I'm sorry, little guy. But don't worry about it, okay? Everything's all right." When his son didn't answer, he headed for the living room. "Now, where's those shoes?"

Once they were ready to go, the boy found himself by the door, hugging his mother goodbye. "Now you be a good boy, okay, baby?" She asked.

"I will, mama." He said softly. "Tell Johnny to be goods, too. I'll play with him when I gets home."

Patting his head, she stood back up, groaning slightly. "See ya later, baby. Have a good day at work." She said, talking to her husband now. Mommy liked to call everyone baby, even if they were big. He didn't always understand why.

"Will do." The man said, pecking her on the lips. "Now let's scoot, kiddo."

A while after that, following a trip in the car, the boy walked hand in hand with his father down a big sidewalk; not as many people were out today as there were the day he'd taken him and mommy to lunch. Soon, they came to a magazine stand. Another man that the child recognized stood there, grinning. However, it grew smaller as he saw him.

"Hey there, buddy." The second man said, hugging him, before looking at his father. "What's he doing here?"

"I promised Janet I'd take him to work with me today."

"Man, we can't-"

"I know." Daddy cut him off. "But don't worry. He'll be a good boy. Now what's the deal with…"

From there on out, the little boy couldn't really understand what they were talking about. His attention was drawn to the magazines though, with their brightly colored covers. Soon, he was walking down the magazine stand, admiring each picture, though he couldn't quite understand all of them.

As he turned the corner and finished the collection, his eyes were drawn to a dark alley. Halfway into it, against the wall, sat a funny looking animal. He was _big_. Trying to think of what it was, he realized it was a turtle. And it was wearing something blue around his head.

"Wow…" he whispered, walking into the alley. He'd never seen such a big turtle. Maybe he could keep him…

Once he got near, though, he realized something was wrong. The turtle looked very, very sad, just looking straight ahead. Working up enough courage, the boy lightly touched his skin.

It felt funny. It was kind of scratchy, and very cold. When he poked him again, however, the turtle turned his head and looked at him. First he saw it looked confused… then scared. "Oh, crap." It whispered. The turtle sounded like a boy.

"Hi." He said. "I didn't knows turtles could talk." The giant turtle looked right at him then, freezing. Frowning, the little boy cocked his head. "What's wrong?"

The turtle gulped, eyes never leaving him. "What… what's your name?"

Smiling once more, the boy told him. "I'm Logan. Who are you?"

If it was possible, the turtle looked even more frightened. Finally, he gulped. "I'm…" he started breathing funny. "My name's Leo."

"Logan," Leo began, getting to his knees, "what… what're you doing out here by yourself?" he asked, rising to his feet.

"I'm going to work with my daddy today." Logan told him, staring up. He was _really_ big. "See, I'll show you." He said, taking the turtle's hand. He was surprised to find only three fingers.

Leo didn't seem to want to move, but he went; though he refused to go any farther than the corner of the magazine stand. Once he was there, Logan pointed out his father, who was still talking. "That's my daddy. And that's," he pointed to the other man; "my uncle Henry."

Now the turtle looked even more scared. Slowly he made his way back into the alley. Logan followed. "You okays?"

Shaking his head, Leo sat back down. "Logan?" he asked. "Do you… do you know what you're daddy's name is?"

The little boy frowned. "Um…"

Leo changed his question. "Do you know if it's Scott?"

"Oh!" Logan exclaimed, nodding. "Yeah! Uncle Henry and Grandpa call him that all the times!" When the turtle didn't look too happy about this, he came closer. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." Leo mumbled, shaking his head.

Logan frowned again. "But you looks like my little brother, Johnny, when he gets scared. I try to tell him that there's no monsters in our closets, but he's still only two. Sometimes, he has to come sleep withs me at bedtime, or he'll cry really loud-"

He was cut off in his rambling. "You have a brother?"

Nodding, Logan now remained silent. Leo was looking at him strangely now. "You're just-" Suddenly, his eyes widened. "No…" He mumbled to himself.

A little worried, Logan came closer and touched his shoulder. Leo flinched, looking back up at him. Before Logan could say anything, the turtle grabbed him gently by the shoulders. "Logan, I'm gonna tell you something very important now, and you have to listen to me."

"Okay…" Logan said, getting a little frightened himself now.

"First," Leo said, "you have to promise me to try and, well… have fun. Be as happy as you can possibly be."

Nodding again, Logan whispered, "I will."

Leo went on. "But most importantly-"

Before he could go on, a shout reached their ears, fearful in nature. "Logan? Logan! Where are you?" He recognized it as his daddy's. Soon, Uncle Henry's cries joined his, but he couldn't answer.

Swallowing, Leo looked back at him. "But most importantly," he said softly, releasing him; "never talk to strangers."

"Logan!" the shout came again. The little boy turned to look out of the alley; his father was just now coming around the corner.

When he turned back around, the turtle was gone.

&&&&&

From the top of a snow-covered roof, body shivering from both the thought of the last few moments as well as the cold he'd been in for so long, Leo watched the scene unfold in the alley.

This child, though he doubted he could successfully kill a fly, had made Leo's blood run colder with fear than ever before, not even the times when he'd nearly died at an enemy's hands.

And for a cold-blooded reptile outside in twenty-degree weather, that was saying something.

The second he'd left the alley, the two men had shown up, looking for the small boy. Luckily, Leo had been able to move quickly enough to escape attention.

One man, the one he presumed to be little Logan's father, rushed in and swept him swiftly up into his arms, surprising his son more with his tears than his suddenness. Holding him tightly, he went through thanking God he was alive, to scolding him for running off, to apologizing for not paying attention and yelling- all in one breath.

According to the child, this guy's name was Scott, and the other man, looking equally relieved, was his uncle, Henry. The two looked to be about the same age.

Logan, the first one, that was, had had brothers. _Twin_ brothers. Leo had read about them in that news article that Don had discovered, featuring Logan's death.

Their names were Scott and Henry.

_It might just be a coincidence…_ Leo tried to tell himself. He'd already met Logan's father just a matter of hours ago, he wasn't comfortable with running into the whole family, even if they were the nicest people in the world.

But it wasn't Logan's brothers that worried him the most. It was this boy, this little boy; possibly the nephew of the Logan he'd met ten years ago.

This child was the spitting image of him. Granted, his eyes were lighter, and his face bore freckles, and he was at _least_ a decade younger than he'd been when he died…

Still, he looked so much like him… and it didn't help that the two shared names, the younger most likely being named after his deceased uncle, _if_ they were related.

And it only got worse. From what he'd seen of _this_ Logan, even at such a tender age, he was a _lot_ like the previous one.

He was a lot like _him_.

That thought had made Leo's heart shudder; had depressed it further and scared him at the same time. The though that this kid might go through the heartache and sorrow he'd put himself through; that he might end up like him.

He'd almost told him that, too, on a whim, without thinking. But then he'd remembered his own experience, how he'd heard that exact same line once.

And how it had changed his life. _Ruined_ his life.

How could he do that to someone else?

Now, the group below him started out of the alley. Leo focused his attention on them. Still held tight in his father's arms, Logan spoke. He must've been asked what he'd been doing out here, for he sounded like he was explaining himself. "But daddy, there was a _giant_ turtle, 'n he was _really_ sad, 'n-"

The man this Logan had named as Henry, further ahead, turned around to speak to him. "Kiddo, you can't-"

His brother cut him off, shaking his head to silence him. "But _we_ should've been watching him. He's only four, for the love of God." If possible, he held his son tighter. "We can't lose another Logan."

Leo turned around and sat down slowly, the snow parting and compressing for him as he came in contact with it. Drawing his knees up to his plastron, he wrapped his arms around them, trying to keep warm.

That had answered his anxious thoughts. With that little statement, the evidence he'd been overlooking shone brightly upon the situation, making him realize the suspicion he'd tried to dismiss as coincidence was truth.

That child, so much like him and a Logan Leo had once knew, was really the nephew of him- the boy who'd killed himself right before his eyes, who'd put him through all of this.

_Or was it really me? _Leo wondered. The Logan in his head, an enemy and odd consoler of his own mind, had him so confused, he wasn't sure at the moment.

Teeth chattering for a moment, Leo rose to his feet and walked to the opposite edge of the building, planning to get out of this freezer and head home while thinking of what Logan had said to him before his miniature had shown up.

Before he had, while he watched the scene of the first Logan's death play out for the millionth time, Leo had seriously been debating the matter of death, escape and sweet freedom, and a possibly painful road to recovery, life and a joyous existence.

And then he'd stopped himself possibly hurting that small child before him, allowing him to have a chance to live it out on his own while still giving him advice.

There, he'd proved that he truly _wasn't_ exactly like the human Logan, dead and buried. He didn't have to follow the path that he'd set out for him with his death.

Darkness claimed his vision while he remained aware of it and its presence, though Leo this time found himself unafraid of what it implied, instead being filled with a steady calm and twinge of curious anticipation.

Logan stood in front of him. "Well, he sure came at the right time, huh?"

Leo nodded in response. "Was that how you felt? After you told me those things?"

"How many times do I have to tell you? I'm not him." Logan said softly. "Though I do suppose, if you're talking about regret, remorse, and melancholy, then I suppose so. But, if it's even in there, I think you'd have to read that letter of his to find out."

Leo groaned quietly. With all this sudden chaos, he'd almost forgotten those dreaded letters.

Logan went on. "At least now you're finally speaking to me from the right place."

"What?"

Smirking slightly, Logan answered him. "For the longest time, you've only been talking from your head, explaining your fear and reasons to deny my help, even though you remained focused on the feelings of your heart. Your more open to emotions there- your pain, as well as others; your needs and everyone else's."

Nodding once more, understanding dawning on him, Leo watched Logan. "So, what is it that we're supposed to do?"

"You actually just did a major portion of it just now, by realizing that death is _rarely_ ever the last available option, and by finally separating yourself from Logan. Lucky you, huh?" When Leo didn't answer, just accepted what had to be said while silently dreading what was to come next, Logan continued. "All that's left is forgiveness. First, you forgive Logan for what happened ten years ago. Then you can forgive yourself."

"For what?" Leo questioned.

"For avoiding the truth. For hiding yourself. For lies. For putting yourself, and at times, your family, through so much pain. For living a life absent of life." Logan looked at him calmly. "You know you've been hating yourself for those very things."

Bowing his head, Leo knew those words to be correct. "Those are hard things to do." In fact, the blue-banded turtle wasn't sure which one would be the hardest.

Logan shrugged. "But once you do, you can accept your own brothers' forgiveness. They're constantly telling you you're not a burden, and that they'll help you further if you let them, but you're never sure because you think you're unworthy of such an extent of care; that these sins they've pardoned are unforgivable."

As he said those things, Leo realized they were true. He'd never been able to recover completely because he hadn't been able to tell his brothers everything, because he didn't believe they'd forgive him for doing this to himself, by letting it go on and escalate to such a point.

"So how am I gonna do that?" Leo asked.

Popping his neck, Logan came closer. "It might take a while, depending on what you do, once we're done here, you need to read those letters."

"I thought you were going to say that."

The boy shrugged. "So let's begin." Soot faded to the familiar scene on the catwalk. This point of view appeared to be like that of a person watching this as a movie. Logan sat down, gesturing for Leo to do the same. Though the turtle felt uncomfortable, he did as he was told.

The memory picked up again. Leo wanted to look away, as he usually tried to do, though he had it memorized by heart, but the Logan beside him placed a hand on his shoulder. "Watch." He requested of him.

Nodding sullenly, Leo did so, Logan whispering things to him as it went on. "Why do you think he questioned you about your hobbies? What was happening in your life?"

Thinking about it, Leo kept his eyes on what was happening before him again. He had asked a little himself of the small Logan a while ago. "I think he wanted to know my background, if it was anything like his." He paused. "If I might end up like him."

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Logan nod. They were silent, up until the point where the long-gone Logan started confirming that very thought. "Think of how you felt when you saw his nephew, the sorrow at the thought of him ending up either like him or yourself. You asked me if he might've felt like this. What do you think?"

Leo watched the memory of Logan speak to the memory of himself, how slow and depressed it seemed to be when talking about that subject. "Maybe…" Leo mumbled. He nodded, "I think so."

Eventually, they reached the part where Leo had learned of the rat poison. He sniffed, fearing reliving this again, especially since it was taking on a whole new meaning now, yet wanting to finally make sense of it.

He'd tried to save him. Or, at least, tried to talk him out of killing himself. As a child, Leo had been extremely concerned. He sniffed. "The other Logan," he said quietly, "he said I looked sad and scared. He kept asking if something was wrong, if I was okay."

Logan smiled, patting his shell. "Sounds like you're looking at things from the other side of the story, huh?"

Now Logan spoke to him about the things like family and pain, the things that had scared Leo deeply the most.

The things he too had almost said to a little child.

Oh, yes. He was on the other side of the fence now. But not only was the grass not as green, though he hadn't expected it to be, it wasn't mowed, nor taken care of in any way whatsoever. It was much more horrible than he'd expected it.

Yet… he was beginning to understand how, despite tried to manage it; it had come to be that way.

Shaking at the image of the blood started up; Leo still refused to look away. There was the part about trying to save the world and doing something for himself.

Logan leaned forward, watching as well. "You said the same thing. Kinda in different words, but basically the same thing. He wanted you to live somewhat better than he did, and you wanted his nephew to not just do that, but live happily. Neither of you wanted this life for the person who seemed to be 'just like you'."

Hearing these words, Leo nodded.

And then, Logan died. Even when the view faded to darkness, Leo couldn't move. Then his Logan, still sitting, appeared before him. No smile, no anger. Just there… a part of him. "Though you're really different, you _were_ a lot alike, in some senses, like that. Can you see why he did that?"

Nodding, Leo still didn't move. "Yeah." He was able to get out.

Logan didn't say another thing for a long while, and the ninja knew why. He'd forgiven the dead Logan. Despite all the hatred and anger he'd felt about him, he'd forgiven him.

Releasing all of that pain so quickly hurt a little. Logan, probably realizing this, spoke again. "Give it some time. You'll feel better."

Leo breathed out. It _did_ feel a little better. Just a little, but that much still felt good. Looking at Logan, he saw him smile, though not in a morbid or sarcastic way. "See?" Then the look turned to a frown.

In a flash, he was back on the rooftop.

&&&&&

Wrapping the coat tighter around his body, Mikey moved as quickly as he could in the cold, looking for his brother.

His Shell Cell rang. Grabbing it, he answered. Raph was on the other line. No greeting. _"Ya found him?"_ The red-clad turtle asked, the smallest trace of anxiety in his words.

"No." Mike said sadly, not bothering to ask his brother the same question. Why else would he be calling? "You call Donny yet?" He questioned, hopeful.

Raph took a moment before responding. "_Yeah… he hasn't either."_

Neither one of them voiced the ultimate concern on their minds. If they didn't find Leo soon, he could freeze to death. He'd already been out here for too long.

"_Call me if you find him."_ Raph said. _"And be careful out there."_

"Same for you, bro." Mike told him. They hung up.

Closing his eyes for a second, Mikey sighed. _C'mon, Leo. You gotta be okay._

So many times, he's come dangerously close to losing a brother, Leo especially in the past year.

That thought was unbearable.

He searched for another ten minutes, looking above and below, no nook or cranny escaping his attention, devoting himself to the search for his brother.

And then, as he was rubbing his hands together to keep them warm, looking at the other rooftops, he thought he saw him, in the distance. He was mostly covered by other buildings, so he wasn't entirely sure, but Mikey couldn't think of anyone at the moment who would be on a roof and wearing a green suit.

Practically flying towards that spot, Mikey suddenly stopped. The place where he could've sworn Leo had stood just a few minutes ago was now vacant.

But there were footprints in the snow on that very building, including the spot where he'd been in particular.

And they had two toes.

&&&&&

Though he'd been out of sight by most people, practically all of them in the city of New York, whose inhabitants were known for not looking up, as Leo found himself back in the real world, he realized why Logan had not looked to happy when he'd left.

From the look of the sky, at least an hour has past. And though, while he was catatonic, Leo could stand as still as a statue, unmoved by most things Mother Nature threw at him, the minute he was back, he was merely mortal once more.

Groaning slightly, Leo's chin slowly came down to his chest, partly out of his moving it and partly out of his sudden fatigue. He looked at his feet, which now had a tint of blue and purple to them.

He couldn't feel them, nor could he feel his calves. It was the same story for everything below his wrists to his fingertips. His beak, not yet numb, was icy cold.

Leo quickly discovered he couldn't stand. Body weakened, numb and freezing, his knees buckled; he fell to the ground.

Luckily for him, it wasn't a long drop. The building had been small, in comparison to _many_ of New York's structures. But contact was anything but pleasant. He collided with a dumpster, hitting the corner closest to the wall. Since it hadn't been pushed up against it, there was room on the other side, which was where Leo soon found himself.

Once again thankful for his shell, which he'd landed on, he looked up at the gray and snowy sky above him. Because there were still parts of him that were aware of what they'd just gone through, he moaned at what pain they felt, mainly at the stinging in his right shoulder. That quickly stopped, however. He was suddenly just too damn tired to think of it.

As he was closing his eyes, he thought he heard a thump in the alleyway. The he heard a voice. "Leo?"

It sounded like Michelangelo.

Blinking, curious, he made himself stay awake for another moment. "Mikey…?" He asked.

"Leo!" Now the voice shouted. He heard footsteps heading his way, unsure as to where he might be. Then, above his head, he thought he saw Mike.

He was sure that's who it was when the turtle pushed the dumpster over more to get to him. Carefully, Mikey, lifted Leo's head. He didn't feel anything wet behind it. That meant he wasn't bleeding. That was good.

But Mikey winced. "Jeez, Leo! You're freezing." Lethargically, he watched as Mikey's fingers traced up his right arm and to his shoulder, where they halted. "Bro, I think you dislocated your arm."

"Can barely feel it…" Leo mumbled.

"What?" He heard Mikey ask, fear evident in his voice.

"Too cold." Leo explained. He started to close his eyes once more. "I'm tired…"

Nodding quickly, he watched as Mike took off his coat. "I know, but you gotta stay with me, Leo. Don't got to sleep." He said seriously. "I'm gonna get you home."

Holding onto his coat for a second longer, fishing through his pockets for what turned out to be his Shell Cell, he placed the jacket over his elder brother's body like a blanket. "Stay with me just a little longer." He repeated.

Trying, Leo thought of what had just happened. "I did it…" He whispered. "He was right all along. And I finally did it…" A smile came to his face.

Shell Cell open, Mikey turned back to him. "What are you talking about, bro?" Suddenly then, he typed in the digits to Donny's cell number, tucking his coat in tighter about Leo's body, hoping to keep him warm, while gently shaking him.

Leo had tried to stay awake, he really had. But never before in his life had he been so tired.

&&&&&

Long chapter, so don't complain! No! No complaints!

I'm still getting them, aren't I?

As for the part from Logan's nephew… Logan's… point of view- I apologize if it sucked. I'm sure you all figured out he had some relation to the original Logan early on, but I had to build up the unveiling, just in case. It was _extremely_ difficult not to mention his name, but I had to do it, otherwise it wouldn't have shocked Leo as badly.

So, I hoped you liked, despite the horrid cliffy.

Well, please remember to leave some nice thoughts in your reviews too, if you choose to put one in, which would make me _very_ happy!


	12. Back

Hello, my friends! I have returned with a new chapter!

Sorry it took me so long. I was looking up medical information- I'm _still_ not sure if I'm right. I couldn't find everything I needed. So please forgive me if everything isn't correct. And _then_ went nuts and wouldn't let anybody log in! Grr…

Oh well. Now, how about we get on with it? I hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: Not much had changed since we last met. I got a new pair of pants, but I still don't own the TMNT.

&&&&&

Blurry and dark, the images Leo saw above him were recognized as lines, which slowly turned into two-dimensional shapes, rectangular forms in the brickwork. Five seconds later, he was able to relate them to the ceiling of the lair.

There were _several_ blankets piled over his body, but Leo felt a little chilly. His body was sore all over, his right shoulder in particular. The pain reluctantly brought back the memories of what had happened just before this, his freedom from his self brought-upon nightmares.

As nice as this was, for the life of him, all he wanted to do was go back to sleep…

To his left, a rough voice spoke quietly. "As much as I love you, bro, sometimes you can be a real idiot."

Turning his head, he looked at Raph. "Should I be taking that as a compliment or an insult?"

His brother didn't answer for a few moments. Finally, though, he leaned forward and shrugged. "Both, I guess." When neither one of them said anything, he continued. "But seriously, Leo. I know Don says you probably didn't even know what you were doing at the time, that has _got_ to be the _stupidest _stunt you've ever pulled."

"Sorry." Leo said sincerely. More silence. "What time is it?" he asked, unsure.

Raph checked his watch. "About eleven thirty- at night." He added. "Mike found ya and brought you back home." He paused. "You were _freezing_."

Nodding somberly, Leo looked back up at the ceiling. He knew that was as close as Raph was going to get telling him he was worried.

The red-clad turtle went on. "Oh, and you dislocated your shoulder, too."

Thinking back, he hazily thought of being found by Michelangelo. "Yeah… Mikey said something about that."

"Don set it back into place, but he says it's gonna be sore for a while. Just be happy you didn't tear any ligaments." Raph picked up an ice pack. "He wants you to use this for about four times a day, to keep it from swelling, or something."

When Raph held it out to him, Leo excepted it with his good arm, placing the pack on his shoulder, wincing quietly.

And then came the question he hadn't been anticipating. "Why didn't you say anything about Logan, Leo?"

He had a good feeling that he was talking about the Logan from inside his head. Staring at him confusedly, he waited for an explanation.

Raph stared at him. "You were trying to kill yourself again." He reminded him. "Donny stopped ya, but you kept talking about how Logan wouldn't leave you alone. You said he'd been there since this had all started." His brother looked angry, but for once, he didn't let it out. "Why didn't you say anything?"

Not quite remembering that part, Leo frowned, guilt spilling through his veins. "I don't know." He told him truthfully. "I was crazy enough as it was… and I kinda wanted to deal with _something_ on my own." He said frustratingly. "I used to be able to take care of my own problems, Raph."

Though, he still looked angry, it seemed as if his brother understood. "That was before they got too big for you to handle. And this sounds to me like it's pretty damn big."

Leo suddenly brightened. "It was. Not anymore, though. I fixed it. Logan was right the whole time-"

Cutting him off, Raph stared at him. "What the _shell_ are you talkin' about?"

Realizing that the red-banded ninja obviously didn't have a clue as to what he meant, Leo took a deep breath.

And then he told him everything.

&&&&&

Retrieving the half-melted ice pack off his brother's shoulder, Raph made sure that he still had enough blankets before exiting the room, allowing Leo to sleep.

He was still rather pissed at him. If the blue-clad turtle had wanted to deal with some of his problems on his own, Raph understood. However, it _should've_ been the little problems, not a huge one like this.

As much as Leo had been excited about his major leap towards recovery, and as happy as he was for him, Raph couldn't be sure if this was all over. After all, he'd been doing very well for quite a while and then, like a strike of lightning in a cloudless sky, he'd suddenly relapsed.

But for the love of God, he hoped that it would be okay from now on.

Still, he was going to watch Leo closely for a while, just in case.

In the dojo now, Raph decided to take out his frustrations on the punching bag. He was far from done with talking to Leo about this, but he'd figured it'd be best for the both of them if he spread it out over the next two weeks.

But as he continued dealing blows to the defenseless punching bag, which had nevertheless somehow managed to knock Mikey over when he'd hit it so hard that it swung back, Raph's anger slowly began to subside. Eventually, he stopped.

Over the past eight months, Leo had often come to him, asking if he was really like Logan, among other things that had disturbed him. Every time, after great difficulty, Raph had been able to tell him that those things weren't true. Though, until today, he'd had no idea where those thoughts kept resurfacing from.

His brother had actually come to them for a _lot_ of his little problems. When added up, they probably made one huge one, equal to the hidden one behind it.

Though they most likely could've done even better had they known it, they _had_ helped. And Leo had already expressed how grateful he was because of it.

But even if they _had_ known, Raph suddenly realized they couldn't have helped completely. Even if Leo had told them everything that had happened while he was catatonic, detail by detail, they still wouldn't have known _exactly_ how terrifying it had been for him.

He frowned and gave the bag one last slug. _I guess there's some things he just needed to figure out on his own._

&&&&&

Nearing three in the morning, Donatello still found himself unable to sleep. Twenty-four hours ago, his eldest brother had nearly succeeded in killing himself. _Eighteen _hours ago, he'd been brought back to lair unconscious and half frozen.

Raph had come to him a while ago; Leo was fine now. He'd probably still need another day or two of rest, and he'd have to go easy on his shoulder for a few weeks, but he was okay. Even psychologically, he was doing better.

Still, Don was upset.

Tiredly, he switched his computer off and headed upstairs, entering Leo's room. Though Raph had left him asleep, apparently, his blue-banded brother had recently awakened once more.

"Hi, Donny." He mumbled sleepily.

Walking up to his bed, the purple-clad ninja fixed the blankets, which had been disturbed in Leo's movements. "Hey, Leo." He said.

When his sibling closed his eyes, Don thought that he'd gone back to sleep, but it seemed he'd been wrong. "Are you mad at me, too?"

The question surprised him. Mad? No. He'd been frustrated, concerned and afraid, but not angry. "No, Leo. Why would you think that?"

"I didn't tell you." He replied. There was no need to say what he was implying to with that sentence.

"That doesn't mean I'm mad at you."

Leo didn't say anything for several seconds. "I'm still sorry."

Though he didn't believe that his brother had all too much of a reason to be, he let it pass. No matter how much he told Leo that, he'd still be thinking along the same lines.

"Just go back to sleep, Leo." He finally told him. "We can talk about this in the morning."

He was going to leave then, but suddenly couldn't bite back something he wanted to say. "And if you need anything from any of us, don't be afraid to come to us. We'll do anything to help; you know that, right?"

Smiling, Leo shifted slightly. "I do… thanks."

Smiling too, Don unexpectedly felt all of his frustrations ease away within him. "Anytime, bro."

Gently closing the door, the purple-clad turtle headed to his own room. Once in, he shut the light off and easily made his way to his bed. Laying down upon it, Donny pulled the blankets over his body.

In the world today, after tragedies, continuously more people spent more of their time thinking about themselves and how the event affected _them_. Less and less people cared to think of how lucky they were to have their families and friends; misfortunes that brought death upon a loved one often brought up thoughts of finances and funerals.

People spent most of their lives being angry and self-pitying in the face of adversity. Nowhere near enough of them spent their years enjoying and loving the ones around them. Only when they were gone would they think of doing that.

That was why Don couldn't bring himself to be angry with his brother. Granted, there were times when he'd become upset, but it would rarely last for long.

No, he wanted to be one of the few who cherished nearly every day they had with their family; seized each moment and held it close, even if it was bad, for the fear that if he lost just one, it might be one of the ones that had been important to somebody else. It could've been a time when they'd needed someone by their side, and all they'd received was bitter hostility.

In a world of pain and loss, love and understanding was what really mattered. Neither anger, nor the comprehension of how close you could come to losing the most precious things in your life before you even realized they'd been there.

He still had his brothers. He still had his friends. Any anxieties relating to the 'what if's and 'almost's of life didn't matter anywhere near as much.

&&&&&

Around noon the next morning, as Mikey was preparing a sandwich, he was surprised to find himself entrapped in an one-armed hug.

When he was released, he turned around to find Leo, right arm in a sling to help his shoulder. "Bro, what're you doing out of bed?"

Leo grinned. "I can still walk." He paused. "Just wanted to say thank you."

Mikey immediately understood what he was talking about. The memory of carrying Leo's limp body home was by no means pleasant, and he didn't really want to recall it.

But his brother was okay now. Mike was _much_ happier to think of that. "Your welcome. Just…" he wasn't sure if he should bring this up; "please… don't do that again."

Seriously, Leo nodded. "I won't."

The orange-banded turtle believed him. Something he'd come to understand from this whole matter, if he hadn't known it before, was that Leonardo didn't enjoy putting his family, as well as himself, through such pain. The only way he permitted it was if there was no other way or if he couldn't control it.

As of recently, the latter of the two had been the unfortunate reason behind their distress.

But Leo seemed so much happier now. And happiness was not something his brother could fake easily. Contentment, maybe, but not joy. It was something he couldn't lie about.

And if the blue-banded turtle was cheerful, he was in more control. And if he was in control, than he wouldn't be running out of the lair again, only to be brought home half-dead.

After finishing his sandwich, Mikey brought the conversation back around. "So, thing's are better now?" He asked, remembering what he'd been told about the whole catatonic thing and Logan.

Leo nodded once more, this time happier. "Yeah. A lot." He paused. "In fact, I think it'll be even better; I just have something else I need to do."

Confused, Mikey tilted his head. "What's that?"

His brother grinned. "When I'm done, I'll tell you. All of you. I swear."

With that, he quickly headed back upstairs.

&&&&&

Back in his room, Leo carefully removed the letter from his wall. Holding it gingerly, he then stuck his hand under his pillow and removed another one.

Taking a deep breath, he sat down on the bed, wrapping a blanket or two back around his body to keep him warm, and opened the first one…

&&&&&

Man, I know that was short! I'm sorry! But I would rather prefer the reading of the letters to be in the next chapter. There'll be much more besides that. I swear I'll make the next chapter longer!

You see, I wanted this one to have more of a brotherly focus. There'll be a lot of that in the next one, too, but I didn't want the letters to draw away from the mood I had planned for this one.

So, I pray you liked! Please review!


	13. Hope

(stares at computer screen) Hey did you guys know that, after this chapter, there's only one more left for Suicide II? Boy, has time gone fast!

(silence) I can count to ten.

Okay… how about we just gent onto the next chapter, since I have so little to say.

I reveal… the letters! First Logan, than Splinter.

Disclaimer: Imagine all the cliffhangers I could write if I _did_ own the TMNT…

&&&&&

Soft, warm and comforting. Those were words that came to mind when one thought of 'blanket'. Yet Leo felt as if he'd been thrown into a stream of cool water on a hot day; the chill was a relief, of course, but more than unexpected. Within seconds, he was craving more warmth, but he'd used up all the blankets on his bed.

Attention diverted once more, the blue-clad turtle reluctantly got up and walked over to his closet, taking out another two blankets. Once he was back and situated in his bed once more, he positioned them around his body and took up the opened letter.

Discarded, he'd put the envelope, bearing his name, that it had been in for the past several years or so on his nightstand, and fingered the three sheets of off-white colored paper.

Taking a deep breath, he began to read.

_Dear Leo,_

_We've never met before, and I don't think we ever will. My name's Logan. Lately, I've been around where you live and I've seen your brothers running around. Don't worry; I don't plan on telling anyone your secret._

_But that's not what I wanted to talk to you about. As I said, I've seen your brothers. They're funny little kids. My little brothers acted a lot like that, back when they were your own siblings' age. When they were happy, anyways. _

_When they weren't, they sometimes said the same things about me that your siblings are saying about you. Those things have driven me to the edge. Well, I guess I've always been teetering on it, without my knowledge even. _

_Are you confused? It's a little strange, talking about things like this to you. Can you even understand yet? I have this gut feeling that you do. _

_While I'm sure that there's a lot more that my own little brothers have said about me behind my back, I've heard a majority of it, even when they weren't talking directly to me. I wouldn't be surprised if it's the same situation for you._

_And it's not just that. I'm starting to think that there might be a lot more we have in common. I'm not exactly happy about that; this kind of life isn't much fun._

_Are you reading this? Heck, I must sound crazy. I kinda am, though. It's just hard to get this all out on to paper. There's so much I want to explain to you, but not even half of it can or will come out. _

_But I can try, right?_

_Okay… well, at this point, your world is simply black and white. Your one of the few who's already making out the gray, but you don't see in color… yet. You will, too soon, probably. But what I mean by black and white is… you see good and bad. Everything you do, you sort into one of those categories. Good and bad. _

_Leo, there are details to every single thing in life. Once upon a time, things were simple. But now, nothing is. Black and white blend together to make the gray. You're starting to notice it, but if you look closer, you'll start to notice that some other colors were thrown into the mix. They're hard to understand at times, I don't even get all of them now._

_Some aren't the most wonderful. They're warnings. You know, the strange thing about warnings are that they're so different for each person. But we have to listen to them, or we could get hurt, or die. _

_Anything that hurts you is a warning. If you touch a hot plate, that's a warning that it will burn you. If you fall down and hit your head, that's a warning to keep your balance or take in your surroundings. _

_Physical warnings are just like inner warnings. If you make you're brother cry, that's a warning that you need to tone it down a bit. Are you following me? See Leo, we learn from these warnings._

_Do you ever feel lonely? We've never met, so I can't rightly tell, but I think you do. A lot. It hurts, doesn't it? So that's a warning too. I never really paid attention to it when I had it, so I don't know what we're supposed to do there. I just know that keeping it all in isn't good._

_There must be something you can do, though. Loneliness isn't just a hot plate, Leo; it's the flame on a candle. If you touch it for too long, you're going to burn._

_Remember the colors? Since you can see black and white, if you can, find a white feeling. Things that are dark are bitter like acid and will eat away at you from within. It's a pain that can't be soothed easily or quickly. For people like us, I don't think it ever really goes away. It dies down sometimes, but it's still there._

_Anguish. I know more about it each and every day. More than I care to, nor want to. I don't want you to know what it's like. Have you already felt it? Of course you have. That's another gut feeling of mine. Usually, they prove to be correct._

_White is purity, Leo. Sometimes, I don't think it exists. But maybe you can find it. _

_Do you understand what I'm telling you? _

_Because of this world we're in, life doesn't always get better as time goes on. There are rough spots we have to go over that are worse than they appear. People like you and me are left with deep cuts and painful bruises that no one can see but us. Without knowing it, ore loved ones, like our brothers, will even make the wounds bigger._

_It's not like I want that to happen. I want the exact opposite. But I feel that that's how it might come to be._

_Leo, if you're more like me that I thought, I think that's how it will come to be. I pray you'll prove me wrong, though I won't live to see it._

_I have regressed. No longer do I see the colored details of life, nor the good. All I have is darkness._

_Please take the warnings from my message. Please understand. Find the light that's hidden in life and, if you hear of my fate, don't dwell on it._

_Logan_

Breath leaving his body in short exhalations, Leo tried placing the letter back in its envelope, but found he couldn't. Not bothered by this, he simply placed it on his pillow.

That hadn't been as bad as he'd expected. In fact, it'd been much better than what Logan had said before he'd killed himself.

Still, the blue-clad turtle found himself shaking slightly. Part of it might have been from how cold he still felt, but Leo figured that there was another contributing factor.

The note he'd just handled had been from the _real_ Logan Acker. Not the one that he'd finally come to accept in his mind, but the one that had stood before him that day, speaking to him of things that scared him, things he couldn't quite understand yet. The one that had done died right before his eyes.

Closing his eyes, he held his breath for five seconds before releasing a long, slow breath. With it, he felt his anger for the dead boy slowly travel with it.

&&&&&

Originally, Mikey had left the kitchen with the intentions of retrieving a comic book in his room. Nothing more; just that. After that, he'd bring it back down, find a comfortable seat in the den, and bask in the warm sun that was the adventures of his favorite superheroes.

He never even made it to the entrance of his room.

The trip involved passing by his eldest brother's bedroom. As Mikey had come near it, he'd suddenly been compelled to stop. Inching closer to the doorway, he placed himself against the wall, hiding within its frame.

No noise ensued from Leo's room. Slowly and cautiously, the orange-clad turtle moved his head and peeked into the room.

He found the leader sitting on his bed, three sheets of paper in one hand, while his injured arm lay in its sling, and an envelope sitting in his lap. Another one sat to his side. Normally, Leo would've immediately noticed his presence, but he was so enthralled in the words before him that he took no note of it.

Mikey had watched him read before. A speed-reader, he could go through the pages of books faster than the youngest turtle could pick up the remote; _and_ retain the information.

Yet now, Leo's eyes moved slowly over the sentences, absorbing each and every letter, it seemed, including the deeper meaning they formed.

Grinning, Mikey continued to watch him. From the appearance of the paper, he figured that this was Logan's letter. He'd been told about it by Raph earlier this morning.

And, if Leo could read Logan's letter, Splinter's was probably next.

A burst of happiness spread throughout Mikey's chest. This was good; this was progress.

Wanting to give his brother some space, but nevertheless wanting to witness the milestone, even if he never told Leo, as he probably wouldn't, Mikey stayed put.

It wasn't until Leo had come to the last page of the letter did Mikey realize he had company.

Equally hidden, just above him, Raph was watching, a wide grin forming on his beak. Inches above _him_ was Donatello. Both of his brothers seemed to have the same idea is he did.

Smiling, Mike turned back to the scene at hand. Leo had finished the letter. Putting it down on his pillow, he sat still for a moment. Closing his eyes, he appeared to be thinking over what he'd just read.

Then he breathed out, long and slow. Opening his eyes, he reached for Splinter's letter.

Mike's smile, if possible, grew wider. _Way to go, bro._

&&&&&

Because of the short, yet horribly tragic, history that they shared, Leo had chosen to read Logan's letter first. Since he'd received it, Splinter's letter hadn't seemed nearly as bad.

Now, it was nothing. Looking back on the last several months that it had hung unopened on his wall, Leo felt foolish. However, he couldn't go back and change the past. Besides, there was no time like the present.

Careful not to rip any of the pages, he carefully opened it. Not nearly as old as Logan's had been, the paper was still clear and white. Unsurprisingly, it was much longer than Logan's had been.

_Dear Leonardo,_

**My son, if you are reading this than I am afraid that I have passed on in death.**_ While it is not something that I wished for, as no father desires to leave his sons behind, you must remember that, with time, the body grows old and the dangers of this world increase. Even without our knowledge, our lives come to a close each and every day, more so for the elderly._

_I suppose what I am trying to tell you is that, as you are aware, I was old. I have seen many things and experience many joys. My life has been lived to its full potential, as yours and your brothers have not. _

_Even more so than leaving their sons behind, a father wishes to never have to outlive their children._

_Leonardo, despite how fast you have grown in spirit, you are still a child. Do not take this as an insult; I mean it in a kindly way. Though you have been put through much in your years, you have maintained your innocence, as have your brothers. You have much more of your life to live, and I wish only that you live it well._

_Now, you may be wondering what the significance of the items I have left for you is. _

_The road you have paved for yourself has so far been dark, increasingly separate from that of your family's. I do not believe that you have done this on purpose, only that the emotions within you that you strive so hard to hide have forced you to do so. You want to return to them, but as your path grows darker, you have been unable to find your way back to them. Therefore, I leave you these candles to metaphorically light your course and reunite you with your brothers. You do not have to deal with your sorrow alone, my son._

_Besides, you were always the one most interested in meditation. I believe that they will get the most use out of you._

_As for the dagger, I suppose I chose to give it to you for the same reason I trained you to wield the katanas. In matters of responsibility and honor, you follow a straightened path. Like the sharp edge of your swords, when it comes to the protection of those you love, you are lethal, yet, as you are manipulating the katanas in your hands, you control that, only serving such dangerousness when it is needed. You know how to injure without maiming- without killing. _

_But the most striking difference to the eye between your katana and the dagger is their length. I have given you this shorter weapon not for the reasons you must be thinking. Rather, it is yours because there is one area of your being in which you are short on. Since youth, Leonardo, you have always endeavored to be a guardian to your brothers, even at the cost of yourself. You will find, as time moves on, that they want your safety as much as you wish for theirs. While we must always make sacrifices in life, you must remember to never make unnecessary ones. If you do so in life, you will find yourself with more inner pain than you deserve. _

_In time, you will understand this. And while you do so, I trust you will take good care of this blade as I did. It once belonged to my Master Yoshi. _

_Now as for this little stone, I suppose that the meaning of it ties in with that of my other two gifts to you. You have gone down a dark and distant path of pain and isolation unknowingly, but you can find your way back. As you know, since I instructed you and your brothers in Japanese since youth, the symbol carved into this stone means 'lost'. _

_Do not take this in a bad way, my son, for this is not how it is meant. You are not lost in the sense that you are defeated; you have not failed anyone. The lost I mean is that of confused and absent. With each year, I have sadly watched a little piece of your spirit slowly dissipate before my eyes. There is much more to you than meets the eye, Leonardo, and I wish I could have seen what mysteries you held within yourself before my death._

_However, I have gotten the feeling, early on, that these mysteries are even mysteries to you. Yet, I have always wondered if they are ones you wish to solve. _

_I encourage you to do so, my son. While your brother claim you to be the 'fearless leader', we both know that even you have many fears, submerged deep within your soul. Though I have never seen them, and never will, I am sure that they cannot remain hidden forever. As horrible as they may be, my son, I wish you to face them. While you have done well in life so far with them pushed back into the darkest corners of your mind, there they will only grow to heights that are exaggerated. _

_One of your defining attributes, Leonardo, is your courage. I am sure that you can do this. And you do not have to do it alone. Look to your brothers for help. As I have said before, they care for you as sincerely as you do for them._

_There have been times in your life where you have hidden horrible anxieties from your brothers and I. Twice, you made yourself physically ill for weeks by doing this. No matter of coaxing or comfort would bring you to tell me. One time, it was so bad that you had terrifying nightmares that consumed your thoughts. You hid under your bed, refusing to eat. Eventually, however, you slowly came back, though you never told anyone what had happened. For months afterwards, I would question you about it, but it seemed that you had forgotten._

_As painful as it is, you must find a way to learn and come to terms with your fears, just as you do with your mistakes. Everything around you provides a lesson to learn from, Leonardo. _

_My so, you have provided me with various joys in the time we have spent together. As a toddler, you were the first to walk. I had just come home from scavenging in the sewers only to find you at the entrance of our home, smiling widely. At first, I was shocked to find you on two feet, but you were just so happy to see me that that soon faded._

_As you got older, I watched as the four of you developed individual personalities. You were very kind and even more so astute. There was a time when you, in a rare show of pranking your brothers, developed an elaborate trick that ended with Raphael covered from head to toe in mud. Everyone else had been baffled, considering that your youngest brother had been ill that day, though they all thought it was him. But since he was unwell, it was quickly forgiven._

_And while I did not say anything, I believe it is time that I reveal to you that I did know who was behind it, though you played the innocent part well, I might add._

_Your cleverness has always served you well, Leonardo. I fear that had you been more into these pranks as Michelangelo is, there would be no peace, for you are so thorough._

_However, this was never an issue. You are so reserved, even as a child. Once again, I encourage you to open up. There are so many joys that you have yet to see and will enjoy._

_Already, you have lead your brothers well. I feel, however, that when you realize many of your other emotions, you will do so even better._

_You have always made me proud, Leonardo. Despite what you may think, you have never failed our family, or me. With each and every day since I first discovered you and brought you back with me to my den as a small rat, I have grown to love you and your brothers more than I ever expected to. I wish for you to know this, though words cannot even begin to convey how much I care for you._

_It is my hope that you will live a long and eventful life with your brothers, filled with happiness._

_Hamato Splinter_

Carefully setting the sheets of paper aside, Leo allowed the tears to silently flow down his cheeks. It had been so long since he'd heard Master Splinter's voice, in speech or writing. It echoed with his words; the style was all his.

The letter was comforting.

Every part of it had caught his attention, some more than others. For example, the memory of him hiding under the bed, very upset for an 'unknown' reason hadn't gone unnoticed. That had in fact been after he'd witnessed Logan's death.

Splinter hadn't known anymore about it than his brothers had. Well, his brothers _had_ been young at the time. Leo assumed that, had they remembered that situation as their departed father had, they would've been along the same page.

But, thought that had, for some reason, been his main concern about this particular letter, Leo had few thoughts on it now. He was more interested in all the things his Sensei had to say about him- how much he loved him; how much he wanted for him.

Shaking his head, Leo smiled slightly. Raph had been right all along.

Thinking of his brother, the blue-banded turtle slowly pulled himself off the bed. He'd promised to tell them all about this.

With a little difficulty, due to his shoulder, Leo made his way down the stairs, swearing he'd heard the sound of metal creaking before he reached them. But no one was there.

Once he'd reached the bottom, he began to search for them. He found all three in the kitchen. Donatello was preparing an ice pack at the sink, while Mikey and Raph sat at the table, the latter with his feet resting on it.

Since they weren't exactly eating, Leo didn't reprimand him. Smiling, Donny walked over to him and handed him the bag of ice to rest on his shoulder.

Getting an odd feeling, Leo looked at him before glancing at his other two brothers. Somehow, he felt that they already knew what he was going to say.

For some reason, in no way did he feel his personal space had been invaded. They had let him discover the contents of the letters in private, but that wasn't all.

Radiating from each and every one of them was a sentiment of happiness. Their grins only confirmed it. They were _proud_ of him.

That didn't always happen in each and every one of them at once. Though he didn't say anything, Leo returned their grins, silently thanking them and knowing that they, in turn, felt his gratitude.

Finally, things were starting to go right for him again.

&&&&&

Seven pages without any dialogue! Whoa. Sorry if anyone found that boring, but I felt that this should be a reflection type of chapter.

Okay, we have only one more chappie left! I hope you'll stay tuned for it!

Please review!


	14. No Darkness

Well, my friends- we have come to the final chapter of the Suicide story.

It's funny. I took the time to read the whole work, starting from the first chapter of the first story to the last one of this, and have seen how much my writing has improved. I'm still not _that_ good, but it's cool to watch it take off.

Mostly, I have to thank you readers for that. Until I came here, I never finished anything that wasn't a poem. Reviewers make all the difference for me.

So, allow me to thank them! To start with a big one to my regulars, who reviewed every chappie, thanks **Tewi**, **Leo's Katana-Babe**, **Turtlefreak121**, **Digmon Girl** and **Jessiy Landroz**.

To everyone else who was kind enough to review, thanks: **night2frost**,** Dierdre**,** Shadowflame611**,** coldsunshin**,** Cynlee**,** Goblin Cat KC**,** The Sacred Heart 2**,** spootycup**,** Chibi Rose Angel**,** Inumaru12**,** LadyKatana45**,** BubblyShell22**,** MuseSeeker**,** Basia Lynn**,** pacphys**,** jaunt**,** Spawn Guy, Flaremimi**,** Bioniclefangirl**,** RAPHAELFAN02**,** Janajyo**,** Moonbeam067**,and **Neatsue**.

And another thank you to those who've read my story but never reviewed. You're out there somewhere, and you know who I am. That makes me cheerful enough.

Now, we shall move onto the ending. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: El Dorado was the lost city of gold- but even it had a map. They don't even make self-help books for people who want to someday own the TMNT.

&&&&&

For three years, since the glaucoma had claimed his vision, Paul Acker's world had been pitch black. It had come at a strange time; he'd been diagnosed with it a year or two after Logan had passed away. By the time he was forty-eight, it was gone.

Paul felt great melancholy over that. But he had to admit, he'd seen quite a bit by then. The man had even had the opportunity to see his first grandchild, even his second, with his own eyes before he'd lost them.

None of the Seven Wonders of the World were anywhere near as beautiful.

Standing at the door, he spoke with his two sons as Marie, Henry's wife, helped pregnant Janet get Johnny into the car while Logan, named after his deceased uncle, played by the trees with his three-year-old cousin, Dinah.

He knew this only by ear. He could hear his daughter-in-laws chatting by the car, the children laughing, in the background of his own conversation.

Soon, however, it was time for them to leave. Paul Acker wished they would get together more often; ever since the twins had moved out five years ago, the house had been mostly empty and lonely.

And he loved seeing his grandkids. He was determined to be a better grandparent to them than he'd been a parent to his own children.

Walking over to Henry's car, he gave his granddaughter a kiss before she was placed in the car. After Henry and Marie had driven away, he moved over to Scott's car, quickly finding Janet.

Back by the trees, he could hear Scott tickling Logan.

The smile on Janet's face might as well have been an orchestra- he knew it was there. She spoke happily. "He's been a lot better this past week. I swear, when he told me that he'd momentarily lost Logan on his way to work, I wanted to kill him." She sighed. "But when they came home, it was all I could do to get him to let go of him. Scott's not even going to work next week- he wants to take time off to take the boys to a movie."

Looking in his son's direction with vacant eyes, Paul nodded proudly. "Good for him."

Eventually, playtime was over though. Once he'd given Johnny a kiss and Logan a hug, the eldest was being strapped into his seat. Before the door closed, however, he said something strange.

"I told ya he was real. But I think he's happy now."

It didn't take long to figure out who he was talking about. It'd been one of his discussions of the day with the boy.

But Scott just tousled his son's hair. "I'm sure he is. And… of course he's real! Just like Santa Claus is real!"

"Santa's not real, Daddy." Logan said, laughingly. "I saw you dressed up like him last Christmas." Then he whispered. "But don't worry, I won't tell Johnny."

By the time the car had driven away, Paul was deep in thought, making his way back to his house.

Little Logan was very astute for his size. It was strange, how may similarities he had with his uncle.

But, for now, he was happier.

Fumbling with the doorknob, Paul was about to enter when he heard a voice. "Nice night, isn't it?" He said referring to the weather.

Recognizing it in only a few seconds, Paul nodded. "Indeed." He smiled. "My kids barbecued." Still not feeling all that threatened, he nevertheless wanted to make sure… "Just how did you find my house, young man?"

The stranger from the cemetery explained himself, somewhat sheepishly. "Looked you up in the phonebook. I… I just came to tell you I read his letter."

The conversation now a little more serious, Paul nodded. "Did it make any sense to you?"

"Yeah, Quite a bit actually." The boy paused for a time. "He wasn't as bad as I'd thought." Another pause. "I wanted you to know that, if it matters, I forgive him."

In most, if not _all_, of his life, Paul Acker had never been speechless. He was now. "It matters more than you know." After a long break, he spoke, just to make sure the kid, Leonardo, was still there. "Did you understand what it meant?"

For ten years, that had plagued him. His Logan had always been intense, very mysterious. But caring, oh so caring. At least, to everyone but himself.

From the little conversations he'd had with this Leo, he'd been able to understand that he too was like Logan. But not as much as it had first seemed.

He was happy.

Leo finally answered him. "I did… it's very hard to explain, Mr. Acker." The teen was quiet again, putting together the right words. "He wanted to make sure I didn't turn out exactly like him."

"But you understood all of his metaphors? The 'black and white'; the warnings?"

"Yes. Like I said, it's hard to explain. You have to take a walk in our shoes to get it."

Paul frowned, looked down. "He always did have smaller feet than me." He said, half in humor, half in memory of his firstborn's birth, his little feet that could fit in the palm of his hand.

Leo chuckled once at that before turning serious. "I'm sorry for your loss, sir."

Looking up, the old man waved his hand. "Old wounds never die, but they get easier to live with after a while. I'm trying to take joy in life." He smiled. "I have grandchildren now. Cutest things in the world. My grandson was just telling me about the giant turtle that he saw the other day when his dad took him to work. The giant, sad turtle. But I guess he's a happy one now, at least he was when they left." Paul laughed. "Kids say the funniest things, don't they?"

Laughing as well, Leonardo sighed. "They sure do." After a while, he spoke again. "Um… I was wondering, would you like the letter back? I wasn't sure if-"

"Keep it." The old man interrupted him. "I already told you; it's yours. Addressed to you and everything." He paused before adding, "Besides, I have two photocopies. Maybe… one of these days, I'll go and take that walk in his shoes."

"It's a long one." Leo told him. "And not very enjoyable. More of a long hike without the proper gear, really. But it's different for everyone, I suppose. I'm just happy I've finally finished it."

Smiling, Paul nodded at him before opening his door. "Well, that's good for you, my boy. How's it feel to be done?"

"I don't know yet." The boy replied. "But I think there's a lot more than I thought." He said happily. "And nothing's better than the trip home."

&&&&&

When Leo entered the lair, he immediately picked up the smell of pizza, home-baked. If Michelangelo put his mind to it, he could create a pizza worthy of its own chain. He often proclaimed he could beat Domino's single-handedly if he wanted to.

Truth was, the orange-clad turtle would spend an entire day making just one, huge and delicious pizza before quitting for another two months or so. Unfortunately, a business could not be run that way, if you wanted to make money, that is.

After everyone had practically inhaled their servings, movie night began. Having volunteered to pick up the video, Leo had made a little stop at Paul Acker's home, unbeknownst not only to his brothers, but to himself.

Once he had the tape, he'd just walked into a phone booth and looked him up. Finding that the house wasn't far, he made his way over there. Upon arriving, he'd been surprised to see the young Logan there, more so when the child saw him.

But the kid hadn't jumped up and down, pointing wildly at Leo's hiding spot. He'd just smiled and followed his father back to the car, proclaiming again that the giant turtle was real like it was a known fact.

The kid was more mature and mysterious in that kind of way, something that Leo was grateful for.

While Mike and Don got the movie and living room ready, he went to help Raph make the popcorn. Being teenagers, they made an adequate amount: three bags.

Grinning, Raphael poured one into a bowl. "It's good to have you back, bro." He said.

Leo looked up. There had been little mention of the whole situation with Logan since he'd read the letters. Leo himself hadn't even thought much of it until tonight.

There hadn't been a need to. It was as if everyone had just simultaneously understood. They'd been much happier.

Clapping him on the shell, Raph left the room, leaving his brother to finish the rest of the popcorn. Shaking his head, Leo complied.

Once they were done, he came out into the living room with them. His brothers were already settled in their chosen seats, all of them fitting on the couch and somehow leaving room for Leo.

Sitting on the end, next to Donny, the eldest passed the popcorn down. He had no clue how many times he'd thanked his purple-clad brother for stopping himself from taking that scalpel to his wrist. Leo actually no longer had any memory of it, but he kept on thanking him.

That went for Mikey too. His younger brother had found him out there- got him home. And not long before that, Raph had done the same thing, under nearly the same circumstances.

But he didn't always thank them for that. His brothers kept him alive every single day just by being there.

Most of the time anyways. Sibling rivalry naturally meant that there were still moments when he wanted to kill them.

Nearing three in the morning, Mikey was already asleep while Donny and Raph were well on their way. Yawning, Leo realized he was as well.

As of last week, Master Splinter had been dead for a full year. The blue-banded turtle hadn't gone catatonic since that day he'd nearly frozen to death.

Logan, as promised, was never there to haunt him anymore. Now that he'd allowed himself to recover, he was able to finally enjoy the things around him. Nothing was as bad as it'd been.

Danger was still there. I was always there. But he no longer let fear control him from the inside out. Leo's dreams were even free of the empty void he'd suffered through. The world was bright… he could see those colors Logan had spoken of, in a way.

It was as Mikey had said to him all those times when he'd tried to help him through a catatonic episode.

Even when he closed his eyes, falling asleep alongside his family, there was no darkness.

&&&&&

So…? How was my ending? Short, I know- please don't kill me! I'm hoping the 'sweet' factor got in there, too.

Please tell me it was all right! Nothing compared to the original, I know, but satisfactory at least? This is the end! It _has_ to be good! I hope so, anyways.

Well, I greatly thank you for reading this! Now, it's your last chance to review, so please do so! Tell me that this didn't suck!


End file.
